Darling Deduction: The Shadows of Neverland
by Elizabeth Cooper
Summary: Dahlia is stuck in the world of Peter Pan, except this world is much darker than the story suggested. As she finds herself caught in a dangerous war of wits between a dark evil and a mysterious immortal boy, she begins to realize that books don't always tell the full story.
1. Chapter 1

1.

"To die would be an awfully big adventure." –J.M. Barrie

Everything was set. The job was going to go without a hitch. It had to. Dahlia was tired. She wanted to move on with her life. She loved her job, but she felt it was time to live in the real world...literally. This would be her last case. Of course, she could always come back for new cases later. Writers who retired did that too, right? They came out of retirement to write again. Like Shakespeare.

Alright, she was getting distracted. She couldn't get distracted. Not now and not ever. The darkness around her made the work difficult. She couldn't see her hands in front of her face, much less the rusty lock she was attempting to pick. Instead of relying on her eyes, she focused on her ears, listening for the bobby pin to fall into place inside the lock.

She could not believe that stupid transporter had transported her right inside a claustrophobic chest. It was stuffy and unbearably hot inside. The floor swayed below her feet as she fought back the nausea that threatened to bring up the disgusting porridge she had had for breakfast. The sweat falling into her eyes didn't help much either, making her blink back unwelcomed tears.

Click!

"Finally," Dahlia murmured as she pushed open the trunk and climbed out into the afternoon sunlight illuminating the swaying room. It had taken her twenty minutes to get out of there. "Damn boats."

She would be glad when she had her feet firmly placed on land, but right now she had a job to do. The captain's quarters were small; a single room with thick cedar paneling on the walls, creaky pine floorboards, and wood most every other place. A bed leaned against one corner, opposite a writing table, though she doubted this particular captain had much time for writing even when excluding the violent disruption of the waves. A bookshelf on one wall, a wardrobe on another, and chests filled with stolen treasure dotting the room gave the impression that this was indeed a pirate's chambers.

But she wasn't looking for treasure. Well, not the kind the pirates pillaged and killed for, at least. Though her boss seemed to think it was a great treasure, or so he told her before he sent her off.

Dahlia's hands searched the room, moving from chest to chest, table to wardrobe, and then panel to panel—who knew how many secret places might be on this ship. Her hands finally found their mark as she tapped against the hundredth panel. The hollow sound caught her ear and she grinned.

"About time."

She whipped out a file from her satchel and dug with it under the wood panel, prying it loose. Finally, the wood came away in her hand and she peered inside a tiny crevice in the wall. Two things caught her interest. There was the scroll she was looking for, but her eyes paused for a moment on the cage that sat beside it. Inside it sat a tiny creature with even tinier wings.

A little fairy.

The fairy jumped, speaking in a high voice. "Who are you? Another pirate?"

Dahlia raised her eyebrows. This little fairy was small, but her high-pitched scream would be enough to bring attention that Dahlia did not want or need.

"I could ask you the same question," Dahlia offered back, trying to keep her tone punctilious. She glanced around, expecting the pirate captain to run through the door any moment.

"I'm not a pirate, I'm a fairy."

"Yes, I can see that. I was talking about the 'who are you' question."

"I asked you first."

"So? You're the one stuck in a tiny cage and I'm the one free as a daisy."

The fairy placed her tiny arms on her tiny hips and looked as indignant as a five inch creature could. She crinkled her tiny nose. "Tinkerbell."

"Tinkerbell? Of course, you would be."

"Do I know you?"

Dahlia shrugged. "I wouldn't think so. I'm not meant to be known. What are you doing here anyway? Let me guess, our darling Captain Hook kidnapped you."

"How did you know?"

"It seems like something he would do."

Ding! The clock in the corner rang four o'clock.

Turning her head to glance at the pendulum and then back again towards the legendary fairy, she signed. "Look, I'd love to chat, but I'm in a hurry." Dahlia reached out and grabbed the scroll, shoving it in her satchel and heading for the door. She needed to stay hidden until her transporter had recharged, and she did not need to be right in the center of the pirate's chambers when she did so.

"Wait!" The fairy's voice called from behind her. "You can't leave me here."

Do not interfere in the story. That was the number one rule, and Dahlia was a stickler for the rules—well, most of the time. But would it really hurt if she let the fairy out of the cage? It would hardly stop the age-old fight betwixt Captain Hook and a certain immortal boy.

Dahlia sighed, knowing she would probably regret it. Turning, she moved back to the fairy's cage and opened the flap. The fairy whizzed past her head and out of the cage.

Bang!

A clamp of thunder sounded from above the ship. Dahlia squinted out the window as the sun was suddenly blotted out by thick clouds. "Rain?"

"Oh, not just rain."

The deep voice surprised her. Dahlia looked up at the fairy who was gradually growing bigger and darker.

"What the hell?" Dahlia voiced as she took a step back.

The fairy's transformation was quick, its growth unmatchable and its darkness frightening. Within seconds, it was merely a dark shadow against the wall.

Just then, the door flew open and what she assumed was the pirate captain himself stepped in, his gun raised towards the shadow.

Instinctively, Dahlia stepped as far away from the spectacle as she could. Her hand moved down to the transporter on her wrist. She had the scroll and she figured it was high time to get out of this nightmare and back into the real world. The transporter should have been recharged by now.

Before she could initialize the transporter, the pirate spoke. "Damned shadow, how did you get out?"

The shadow, now in an almost humanlike form, smiled. The voice that came out of it was echoed and deep. "Finally we have no bars between us, Captain of the _Jolly Roger_. What will you do now?" The shadow turned its eye on Dahlia. "For thanks to this tantalizing young lady, my freedom is finally secured."

As the ship started to shake more ferociously and rain relentlessly pounded against the windows, the shadow seemed to grow larger.

The pirate glanced towards Dahlia in horror. "What have you done, wench?'

Dahlia opened her mouth to protest, mostly at being called a 'wench,' but was interrupted. Laughing, the shadow raised his arms up and the windows of the room were blasted open by some unseen force, knocking both Dahlia and the pirate off their feet. Dahlia hit the floor hard, her hand reaching out to steady her. She heard a loud crack.

For a moment, everything went in slow motion.

Her eyes fell to her transporter. The device was broken. The rounded rim in which held the magic was cracked, and the enchanted powder inside had dissipated in the turbulent air. She could not return home. She looked up.

The shadow's eyes turned again to her, and to her surprise bowed slightly.

"Deepest thanks, my pet. I will be seeing you again, I warrant." After his words, the shadow turned and blasted out of the window.

Following his departure, everything fell silent as the storm abetted just as quickly as it had come.

Captain James Hook climbed to his feet, his silver hook gleaming in the gathering light. He turned his eyes on Dahlia. "You fool."

Dahlia blinked. She was stuck here. And she may have just invariably changed one of the most famous fairytales in history.

She realized Hook had just said something. "What was that?"

He approached her menacingly. "You don't know what you've done, do you? That was the one thing that will bring disaster to us. That was Pan's shadow."

 _But Peter Pan's the good guy,_ Dahlia voiced internally, though a part of her had found the shadow more frightening than playful. What kind of twisted world had she become stuck in?


	2. Chapter 2

2.

"He looked at her uncomfortably; blinking, you know, like one not sure whether he was awake or asleep." – J.M. Barrie

"What kind of spy are you, cursed wench? You work for Pan, admit it."

Dahlia stared into the red face of the impassioned but infamous pirate before her. Seeing him in the sunlight gave her a better glimpse of him. Captain Hook, probably the most famous pirate in all of literature, looked exactly like Dahlia pictured him. He was tall, moderately handsome for someone getting on in years, and surprisingly clean for a pirate. His long black locks and beard were trimmed neatly and his clothes consisted of a black jacket, leather breaches, and, of course, a pirate hat. And then there was his hook.

Taking her eyes off Captain Hook, Dahlia glanced around at the rest of the _Jolly Roger_ 's famous crew. She had been dragged above deck, tied to the mask with thick ropes, and now could merely stand there before the vicious mob. Not that they looked that intimidating. In fact, they looked rather clean and calm for a pirate crew. Of course, she had always been averse to stereotypes. But historically…she would let it go this once, since she was in a book and not in real life.

"Well?" Captain Hood demanded again, his eyes on fire.

Okay, despite her situation, he seemed pretty cool. Why did she always like the villains? She shook her head. _Concentrate._ "Look, Captain Hook, I think there has been a bit of a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? Really? How's this for a misunderstanding? You come onboard _my_ ship by some unexplainable means, break into my cabin, and release my sworn enemy's main weapon."

"In my defense, I did not know I was releasing Peter Pan's shadow. It looked like Tinkerbell at the time."

Captain Hook shook his head. "What are you, you—you interfering wench? You come dressed in strange looking trousers and you know my name and seem familiar with that devil boy as well."

"They're called jeans, actually. And I only know about you guys from rumors, you could say. Could you answer me this: why is a fairy turning into Pan's shadow?"

"That boy's shadow can turn into any pleasing form he likes to mislead naïve girls like you."

Dahlia scowled. "I wouldn't say I was exactly naïve, but think what you like. If it makes you feel better, I'm not a spy and I wouldn't have released that fairy if I knew this would happen."

 _Why didn't I listen to the rules?_ She almost said it out loud as she glanced down at her transporter. She had no idea where she might find magic powder to fix it, and even if she could find the dust, she was terrible with technology. She wondered if pixy dust might be a substitute…but then, where might she find pixy dust? She was going to get demoted, wasn't she?

Captain Hook crossed his arms and took a step towards her. "We'll see if you're not a spy. First, what's your name?"

"Dahlia."

"Where do you come from?"

Dahlia floundered, trying to think of an excuse. Finally, she shrugged. "New York City." It was the truth, after all.

The other pirates glanced at each other, whispering. Hook continued to stare daggers at her. "Really? How did you get here? Pixy dust?"

She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Of a sort."

"You don't expect me to believe that, do you? It's clear, Pan sent you because he thought a pretty young girl might have a better chance of earning my trust. He must think I'm stupid."

"Aren't you?" Dahlia whispered under her breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

Captain Hook shook his head and took a step nearer to her, raising his hook to touch her cheek gently. "Let's see what you say after you've been locked in the brig for several days without sustenance. And, trust me, Pan doesn't care about anyone enough to risk his own neck coming on my ship to rescue you. Take her to the brig."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. Just her luck: her transporter was broken and she was stuck in the middle of an age-old feud between two of the most famous literary characters in history. A couple of the pirates untied her and dragged her—literally dragged her because she most certainly wasn't going without a fight—to the dirty, smelly brig below deck. When they threw her into the dark cell, she could barely see her own hand in front of her face, much less her prison surroundings.

As they shut the door, she jumped up and ran to grab through the bars at their arms. They ignored her, locked the door, and walked away.

"Seriously," she called after them. "I'm not a spy for Peter Pan. I've never even met the guy. Come on!"

They vanished around the corner.

"Just great. This is so stupid. All this for a tiny scroll. I should have just quit this job months ago. Why the hell would they think I was a spy for Peter Pan?"

"I hear he's done it before."

Dahlia jumped as a voice sounded right behind her. She turned and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dark cell. In the back, she vaguely made out the shape of someone lying on a bed. And, by the deep voice, he was male and very British.

"Who's done what before?" She questioned, her eyes trying to make out more of him. But, in the already dark room, he was in the deepest shadows.

"Peter Pan. He's sent 'escaped' boys to that pirate captain to watch him."

"And are you one of them?"

The figure rose, and Dahlia was finally able to make out his looks a bit easier. He was young, probably mid-twenties, with a slim, handsome figure and dark blond hair. By any standards he was good-looking.

However, she soon forgot his looks when she saw his military uniform. British, and it looked very old-fashioned, probably Victorian Era. What was a British soldier doing in Neverland?

"I'm not a spy for Pan, no." He removed his officer's cap and bowed his head. "Private Nicholas Callenback of His Majesty's Naval Forces, at your service, miss."

"That is a long name. My name isn't half as impressive. Dahlia Wood. It doesn't have the same pompous ring to it. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but considering the circumstances…"

He smiled, clearly amused—she wasn't sure if he caught the 'pompous' remark. "I understand."

Dahlia tried to decipher what kind of person he might be; this unnamed character who most certainly was not in the original novel. "What brings you to Neverland and how did you end up on the _Jolly Roger_?"

"A series of unfortunate events, I suppose."

"It's a good series, though the movie wasn't that great."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind, continue."

"I was on his majesty's ship _The Second Star_ heading for the Caribbean when we were caught in a terrible storm. We found ourselves here with the island in sight. However, as we approached it, we were attacked by pirates. I offered to swing across the ship and distract the pirates so our craft could get away. Unfortunately, I was captured. There isn't much else to tell. What about you?"

Right…he just swung across to save his men…like that would have helped. Personally, Dahlia didn't believe a word out of his mouth, but she decided not to question him. It was probably a good idea to get someone on her side after making an enemy of every sailor on the _Jolly Roger_.

"I suppose I don't have such an excited story." _What was the best lie that he would buy?_ She took a chance. "I—was traveling on a merchant's ship from New York City to London to visit my aunt and uncle. Unfortunately, my ship also hit a storm and was destroyed. I have no idea if anyone else survived. I held unto a piece of wood and, eventually bumped into this ship. It was at night, so I climbed onboard and, once I realized that I was on a pirate ship, I tried to stow secretly away. However, I was discovered."

Yes, that was a brilliant story. She should have been a writer.

"I would say your trial was just as terrifying as mine. But do not worry, my men will be back to find me and I am sure we can take you to London."

Dahlia bowed her head, relieved he believed her. She changed the subject. "Actually, instead of waiting to be rescued, why don't we escape tonight?"

"Miss Wood, you surprise me. What an idea from a gentle lady?"

"Who said I was gentle?"

Private Callenback raised one of his eyebrows. "You are indeed a strange woman, Miss Wood."

"Good, now, you wouldn't happen to have a pin. That lock doesn't look too difficult to pick, but I used my last one."

"And you know how to pick locks?"

"Every educated New York lady does, Mr. Callenback."

He let out a laugh. "I like you, Miss Wood, you're very…unique. And I do believe I can find you something."

Dahlia bit her lip, formulating silently in her head how she might get the hell out of this place.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

"All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again." – J.M. Barrie

Two years earlier…

Dahlia wanted the pain to stop. She leaned over the dirty, pungent sink, dabbing her split lip with a wet rag. She glanced at the crying, pathetic figure sitting on the toilet beside her. The woman was frail and malnourished. Bruises dotted her arms and face. The wounded creature sat there, crying into her hands.

Opening the medicine cabinet below the sink and pulling out the last bandage pack, Dahlia shifted over to the woman and crouched down. She felt this woman's pain, and she didn't want to. She wanted to get far away from all of this. Into one of the stories she loved so much. When Dahlia reached out to bandage the newest cuts on the woman's wrist and cheek, she pushed her away.

When the woman spoke, her voice was raspy and breathless. "Don't, Lia, it'll just make it worse."

"Mom, I won't let him treat you like this."

Her mother let out a shallow laugh. "What can you do? You're just seventeen. Listen. Just stop. Stop interfering. Go back to your books and forget about me. Stay out of it, and he won't hurt you."

She reached out and touched Dahlia's split lip. Dahlia flinched at the pain of the slight pressure on her wound.

The woman's hand fell. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Dahlia fought back tears, feeling rage more than pain. "I want to kill him."

Her mother began crying again. "Please, Lia, just get away. You'll be eighteen in two months. Just get out—get out of here."

"Why are you putting up with this? He's killing you."

"He—he needs help. I love him."

Dahlia clenched her fists. "He doesn't love you."

"No, Lia, he does, really. He just…when he drinks, he can't control himself. I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Dahlia voiced the words she had been thinking since her mother started dating that bastard. "Mom, you're dying."

Her mother shook her head. "I'm not, I swear. It'll get better." She glanced up at the crooked clock. "It's time for you to go to school."

Dahlia rose, tossing the box of bandages to her mother. She turned and started out of the room, only to stop in the torn doorframe, glancing back. "At least put on the bandages. I'll bring home groceries later."

"Don't forget to get Ronny his whiskey."

"I'd rather overdose on pills." Dahlia left.

Hours later, Dahlia arrived back at the tiny apartment in downtown NYC. Pushing her way into the apartment with a bag of groceries clutched in her arms, her nose wrinkled at the putrid smell. It reeked of alcohol and blood, as usual. And the lights were off.

"Mom, are you home?" Of course, she would be home. It was four o'clock in the afternoon and she worked nights. And yet everything was silent.

"Mom?"

Dahlia poked her head into the two bedrooms. Her mother's was empty. Dahlia's room looked normal too, with old books piled against every wall. It was her one solace against the horrors outside her door. _Peter and Wendy_ lay on her bed open, just as she had left it. It was her favorite book; Neverland was a place she had dreamed of escaping to since she was a small child. Dahlia turned back to her search.

"Mom?"

"L…i…a."

The soft, strangled voice caught her ear and Dahlia hurried towards the sound. Entering the kitchen, the groceries crashed to the floor as Dahlia fell to the floor beside her mother.

Blood was everywhere.

A large kitchen knife stuck out of her mother's stomach.

Dahlia pulled for her cellphone, dialing 911, talking to her barely breathing mother all the while. "Mom, mom, hold on, 'kay?" She tried to stop the bleeding with her empty hand, but she didn't dare pull out the knife for fear that it would kill her mother.

"L…i…a, I…love you."

"No, Mom, you are not going to die!"

" _911 operator, what is your emergency?_ "

"Hello." Dahlia felt like she couldn't breathe. "My mom has been stabbed. She's on our kitchen floor. Blood's everywhere. I just got back from school."

" _Alright, what's your address?_ "

Dahlia told them the address and apartment number, finishing with, "Please hurry."

" _I'm sending people immediately. Now, I want you to try to stop the blood. Can you..._ "

She began to do as the operator instructed her to do. Her fingers trembled and, by accident, the phone dropped out of her hand, disconnecting it. Instead of calling them back, she set to work on trying to save her mother.

"L…i…a."

"It's going to be okay, Mom." Tears began to cascade out of her eyes, making it difficult for her to see the wound properly. The smell was nauseating.

"L…i…a, you're so smart. You absorb those…books like water. You're going to…to be great, I know it."

"Mom, Ronny did this to you, didn't he?"

"It…was an accident."

Dahlia shook her head. Even now, how could her mother defend this man? "Mom, just be quiet. You'll bleed more."

"L…i…a, I'm so proud of you…you know that…right?"

Dahlia shook her head, defying the imminent ending to this scene.

Her mother's breath grew more laborious and, within a moment, everything was silent. Dahlia sobbed, blood covering her hands. Her mother's body lay stiff.

"She dead?"

She glanced behind her at the drunkard holding a beer in one hand. How could he just stand there like this woman—her mother—had just pricked her finger on a needle?

Dahlia threw herself at him, locking her hands around his neck. "You bastard, you murderer!"

Ronny struggled, trying to get her off him. "Filthy bitch, get your hands off me!"

He shoved her off and she fell backwards, hitting her arm against the kitchen counter. Pain exploded in her arm.

Ronny gestured towards Dahlia's mother, shouting. "She fell on the knife herself. I didn't do anything! I ain't no murderer, whore."

Dahlia rose, cradling her throbbing arm in her other hand. "Really? We'll see about that when I testify all those times you hit her. You'll never see the day of light when I get done." She felt herself sobbing uncontrollably.

"You say a word and I'll shut that shitty mouth of yours permanently."

Anger buzzed in Dahlia's ears and she couldn't think properly. "Oh, yeah? I'm not my mother. You try to hurt me, and I'll kill you."

Ronny dove at Dahlia, pushing her back against the kitchen floor beside the body of her mother. His hands wrapped around her throat and tightened. As she clawed at his face, he tightened his grip. She started to feel lightheaded. Her hands reached behind her and grasped the knife in her mother's stomach. She pulled and swung.

The knife lodged itself in Ronny's back. He grunted, and fell off her.

Dahlia lay there crying, shaking with rage and shock. She felt numb.

The police raced in a moment later to find two people dead and Dahlia curled up beside her mother, blood blanketing her.

They arrested her on the spot.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

"Oh, the cleverness of me!" – J.M. Barrie

"I've almost got it."

"Forgive me, but that is what you said twenty minutes ago."

Dahlia glared over at Private Nicholas Callenback of His Majesty's Naval Forces. "Well, if you think you can do better, why don't you try?"

He let out a laugh. "Unfortunately, Miss Wood, I lack the expertise of picking locks."

Dahlia rolled her eyes and went back to work. So the lock was harder than she had at first thought. But it wasn't entirely her fault. It was dark, her blood sugar was low—which also meant she was cranky—, and she was stressed out. Her fingers felt cracked and dry, despite the air being damp, and she was starting to get seasick.

She felt her dry finger crack and the scent of blood ascended up to her nose, making her feel sick. She hadn't been able to stand the smell of blood…since that night. Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus. But it was all too much. She threw the pin on the floor in frustration.

"Damn! I give up. I'm too tired and it's getting too dark."

Callenback's eyes widened at her strong language, but he made no comment and slowly rose from where he was sitting on the bed. Crouching down beside her, he picked up the pin delicately in his slender fingers.

"Do not strain yourself, Miss Wood. What would you do even if you did break out of here?"

Dahlia pursed her lips. "I need to get on the island and find pixy dust. Then I can go home." It was her only chance to fix her transporter—she had decided this in the hour she has been trying to pick this luck.

"Do you plan to fly home then?"

"Something like that."

"Why? Don't you trust me to protect you? I said my men will—"

"I don't know you. Why would I trust you?"

Callenback blinked twice, his eyes watching her intently. "I suppose that's fair. I'll confess something to you. I also want to get on the island and find something too."

"But not pixy dust."

He shook his head. "You are smarter than most girls I've met…or just more brazen."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

He smiled, and his pearly white teeth illuminated the darkness. It was almost creepy.

Dahlia shifted away, sitting back in the corner and wrapping her hands around her legs. Her stomach grumbled loudly. "Why did he have to choose the torture to be no food? The electric chair, I could handle. But this?"

"What is the electric chair?"

"Never mind."

They were silent for a moment, as Dahlia shut her eyes and tried to formulate a plan in her head. She was usually good at figuring out how to get out of tough situations, but this time she didn't have the transporter to help her get home and her mind needed sustenance to work properly.

Dahlia felt a soft hand reach out and touch her finger. Opening her eyes, she stared towards Callenback, who was squinting at her finger in the growing darkness.

"You are hurt?"

She tried to grab her hand away, but he held on tight. "It's nothing. It's just a scratch. My hands are dry."

Shaking his head, he reached into his coat and pulled out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wrapped it around her finger and tied it tightly. "Even so, you should take care of it or it might get infected. I've seen many a sailor die from an infected cut."

"I don't need…oh, never mind." Suddenly, she realized something. "Hey! If you're a sailor, why are your hands so soft? Shouldn't they be calloused?"

Callenback glanced up at her with his piercing blue eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. "You ask a lot of questions, Miss Wood. It's not the best tactic when dealing with strangers, don't you think? You need to find leverage with a person before they spill all their secrets to you."

Dahlia snorted and rolled her eyes. "You're just avoiding the quest—that's it!"

She scrambled to her feet and moved over to the bed. Pulling with all her strength, she lifted the bed and dragged it over to the door. Callenback moved out of her way, but made no comment at her strange action. Propping it up beside the door, Dahlia placed the two bottom legs between the bars of the door and leveraged the top towards her, pulling down.

Just as she had seen them do it in the movies, the door was pulled cleanly off its hinges.

"Yes!" Dahlia exclaimed.

"That was far too loud for my comfort," Callenback pointed out.

She pushed the door as far out of her way as possible and climbed over it into the hallway. Glancing back at Callenback, she placed her hands on her waist. "Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you coming?"

Callenback glanced above, as if listening to hear if anyone heard them, shrugged, and followed her out.

Together, they moved through the dark boughs of the ship, trying to silence their noise as much as possible. Dahlia went up the way she had been brought down that afternoon. Now, it was darker and harder to keep quiet thanks to rusty nails sticking up and creaky boards. Dahlia held her breath as she tiptoed down the thin, swaying hallway. From far down the hallway, she could hear the sound of talking. It wasn't very loud, and it seemed to be coming from the captain's quarters, just beyond the ladder to traverse up to the deck.

Reaching the ladder, Dahlia paused and glanced back at the Captain's door.

Eerily, Callenback seemed able to read her thoughts. "We have to get out of here," he whispered fiercely into her ear, his breath hot against her hair. "We don't have time to eavesdrop."

Dahlia didn't answer, but headed towards the door anyway. She felt Callenback grab her arm roughly and pull her back before she could get there, yanking her into the shadows below the ladder. Dahlia froze, just as the captain's door opened.

Captain Hook exited the room, followed closely on his heels by Smee.

"Captain, this could mean disaster. I mean, there hasn't been a female in Neverland since—"

"Shut you, you festering son of a sea snake. That wench doesn't matter. Right now, we've got bigger problems to worry about. Pan has his shadow back, which means he's twice as powerful. Which means he'll have enough control of the sea to send that pestilent croc after me. Damned boy! Smee, we've got to do it."

"Captain, no, it's too dangerous. The island is bursting with evil. If we step foot on there, we might never see the day of light again."

 _I think you mean light of day,_ Dahlia corrected in her head, engrossed in the conversation.

"And if we stay at sea, Lord knows what will be coming after us. Tell the men to head for Cannibal Cove." Captain Hook turned back into his cabin and slammed the door in his protesting second mate's face.

Smee grumbled and shuffled down the hallway opposite the way they had come. Finally, when everything was silent, Dahlia let out a relieved sigh.

"That was a bit too close," Dahlia voiced.

Callenback let out a sharp cough, his voice sounding strained. "Yes."

"You okay?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, are you feeling well?"

"Yes, it's just…our position is hardly appropriate."

Dahlia snorted. He had a point. Currently, he was holding her in his arms tightly against his chest. She shrugged and moved out from under the ladder.

"Pirating is hardly appropriate either, but that didn't stop pirates," Dahlia pointed out, before she started climbing cautiously up the ladder, careful her bag didn't knock against the ladder. Peeking her head out of the hole, she surveyed the seemingly empty deck above her. Glancing down, she whispered to Callenback. "I'll go first. Stay close behind me. We need to find a dingy."

"I should go first."

"Why? Because you're a man? Put aside your masculine propriety and just follow me."

His eyebrows raised, but he made no gesture to stop her.

Keeping low to the ground, Dahlia climbed out of the hole and crept along the deck, careful to keep in the shadows and out of the lantern light. She was lucky that her jeans and black jacket blended into the night. She could hear Callenback creeping behind her and every once in a while his arm would brush her sleeve. After ducking behind barrels several times to get away from pirates patrolling the ship, they reached the dingy which hung on ropes by the side of the boat.

Dahlia leaned over the edge of the railing, trying to see how to disconnect the dingy.

Behind her, Callenback murmured, "This is suicide."

She was concentrating too hard to even acknowledge his statement.

"Who's there!"

Dahlia and Callenback jumped in unison, as light shone on them and they were faced with a couple fierce pirates.

"Double damned!" Dahlia rolled her eyes.

As the pirates raised their voices, the sound of rushed footsteps emanated from beneath them. Soon, the entire crew would be on deck.

Dahlia signed. "Who wants to live forever?"

Callenback glanced at her, but before he could do anything, she turned around and dove into the sea. As she hit the ocean, she felt as if she had hit of brick wall.

In an instance, she was swept underwater by the icy currents. Everything went dark.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

"If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colors suspended in the darkness…" – J.M. Barrie

A light faded in and out of Dahlia's vision as she struggled to open her eyes. Her body felt drained of all its strength, and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Letting out a sharp cough, she tried to stretch her muscles and realized she was lying on some kind warm and soft granules. Rice?

She opened her eyes and stared up at the blue sky above her. Dark clouds were moving in at the edge of her vision. Was a storm coming? Trying to ignore the pain and pressure filling her entire body, Dahlia strained to look around.

An empty beach stretched out before her. Warm sand enveloped her back and a dark jungle extended behind her. Sitting up as her head whirled, she tried to recollect how she had gotten here. The last thing she remembered was being crushed under the pressure of the freezing waves after jumping off the pirate ship. She doubted very much the current had simply landed her here, especially since the island had been quite a ways away from the ship at the time.

A thought dawned on her just then. She was on Neverland. How she had gotten there was not apparent, but she had miraculously survived. Her shaking hands fell down to check her bag and transporter. Luckily, she had been smart enough to place the scroll inside a zip lock bag, keeping it dry. However, her phone hadn't been so lucky. Not that her cellphone had done her any good up to this moment, but she had still been naïvely hoping that somehow she would get a signal and call her boss for help.

"Finally awake, I see."

The voice startled Dahlia and she turned, observing Callenback—drenched and looking just as exhausted as she felt—emerging from the edge of the jungle with a couple coconuts and sticks in hand. He had taken off his boots and jacket, and now walked barefoot with his pants rolled up to his knees and his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His light shoulder length hair, which had been tied back in a neat ribbon the last time she had seen him, now flung messily around his shoulders.

Dahlia struggled to fully sit up and let out another sharp cough. "I feel like shit."

Callenback shook his head. "Again, your language amazes me."

"Well, get used to it." She paused and then continued as he dropped the sticks and coconut behind her and collapsed beside her. "Did you save me?"

He smiled. "I wish I had. Perhaps then you would trust me a bit more. But no."

"Then what happened?"

"You don't remember either?"

"Either? You mean you don't know?"

Callenback shrugged. "After you jumped over the side of the ship like a lunatic, I dove in in hopes of saving you. Unfortunately, before I got to you, I was pulled underwater by a huge wave. It was dark and I couldn't find my way to the surface. I must have lost consciousness in the water. The last thing I saw was…well, it seemed to be some sort of huge shadow in the water. It looked much bigger than a person. I have not the foggiest idea what it was.

"Anyway, I woke up here. As you can see, it's morning. I woke up about an hour ago. You were right next to me, so whatever saved me also saved you. After checking to see that you were breathing normally, I went to find wood to make a fire and something to eat." He gestured at the coconut and sticks. "I found those near the edge of the forest. I didn't dare to go in further. Those woods are filled with such strange sounds."

Dahlia pursed her lips. "Right."

If Callenback was telling the truth, which seemed plausible because she couldn't see that he had any reason to lie, then what had saved them? A shadow? She doubted very much it was Pan's shadow, because it would have no reason to want them alive. Unless Callenback knew more than he was admitting.

"So, what is your plan now?"

Callenback's words pulled Dahlia out of her thoughts.

Dahlia contemplated for a moment and then asked, "Where would dixy dust be on the island? Pixie Hollow, perhaps?"

"Pixie Hollow? You know the island?"

"No, but let's just say I've read about it. I wish we had a map, though. Anyway, it looks like it's going to rain soon. It's probably not a good idea to stay out here in the open."

"Considering the alternative is going into that forest, I would prefer the drenching."

"Fine, you stay here and hold the fort, if you like. But I'm going in." Dahlia climbed to her feet and headed into the forest.

The trees were thick, but the real challenge was the underbrush that blocked her path in every direction.

"Miss Wood, wait!"

She was only several yards inside the jungle when Callenback caught up with her, pulling his boots and jacket on as he went. He had somehow managed to bring the coconuts as well. Impressive.

Dahlia paused to wait for him to catch up, crossing her arms. "I thought you said you wanted to wait on the beach."

"I suppose my pride won out. I would prefer to get a few scratches then let it be known that a damsel was valiant enough to enter a cursed forest when I was not."

She let out a snort. "Don't worry, I wouldn't have testified against your valor."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Wow, you know sarcasm? There may be hope for you yet."

"What is the plan, by the way?"

"I'm winging it, okay? But I figure it's a good idea to get to higher ground so we can see where we should be going. There seems to be some sort of hill or mountain over there, which is where I'm heading now. Does that satisfy your query?"

"Perfectly. I suppose it makes more sense than wandering aimlessly through the jungle hoping we might come upon pixy dust."

Dahlia didn't respond and they started forward.

After twenty minutes of walking, they had almost reached the edge of a hill when Dahlia heard a loud crack. She froze and threw out her hand to signal for Callenback to be quiet. Coming up behind her, he stopped moving and together they listened.

"Miss Wood!"

His hands grabbed her shoulders and he pushed her to the side as he went in front of her. Displeased at being pushed around, Dahlia glanced around him and felt her breath catch.

Creeping through the forest towards them was a group of Indians. Dahlia had learned a bit about the history of Native Americans in school and, considering these were wearing war paint and sporting heavy spears, she had a feeling they weren't friendly.

"Callenback, considering they don't look friendly and, even with my black belt, I probably couldn't take all of them, I suggest we run."

Grabbing his hand, Dahlia turned and ran in the opposite direction. She lose sensation in her legs quickly as large leaves whipped her calves and, thanks to the thick bushes and darkening skies, she soon lost grip of Callenback's hand. Within moments, it started to pour and thick, wet raindrops cascaded through the tree branches unto her.

Dahlia was soon drenched and in an even worse mood. Her feet slipped in the muddy ground and she soon realized she had no idea where she was or where she was going. Coming to a stop, she leaned against a tree to catch her breath. Listening, she tried to hear sounds of anyone coming towards her. But the rain hitting the palm leaves and ground drowned out any other sound. Even if someone was running through the brush, she probably wouldn't be able to hear them.

Suddenly, loud shouts sounded around her, speaking in a different language. Thus, Dahlia assumed it wasn't Callenback and instead the Indians. The worst part was that it seemed to be coming from all around her. She didn't dare move, in hopes that they wouldn't spot her. They were clearly looking for her. Why, she wondered? Why were they so intent on getting her and Callenback? Was it simply because they were trespassing, or was there something more?

Suddenly, strong hands grabbed her and she found herself face to face with a furious Indian. He raised his spear and, without a moment's notice, swung its tip towards her head. Luckily, Dahlia was quick and ducked just in time. She swung around and elbowed him in the stomach, making him drop his spear and cough. She wasn't fond of hurting anyone, but she also didn't want him coming after her. Twisting around, she grabbed his arm and pulled him over her, causing him to go sprawling on the ground. As he seemed incapacitated, at least momentarily, she took it as her chance to run.

Pieces of her hair that had fallen out of her tight braid clung to her face and she could barely run because of how slippery the mud had become. Her legs screamed for her to stop and rest, but she ignored them.

As she raced into a clearing, she spotted six Indians facing away from her. She tried to spin around and avoid them, but slipped in the mud instead. Luckily, her hands stopped her fall, or otherwise she would have been entirely covered in mud. Scurrying to her feet, she raced in the opposite direction as she heard shouts behind her. They must have seen her.

Just as she rounded a tree, she felt arms suddenly pull her off the path and behind a tree trunk. Strong arms pinned her to the rough bark and she starred into her kidnapper's face.

To her surprise, it was not an Indian. Instead, it was a boy. Well, perhaps boy would be a relative term. He probably wasn't much younger than her: she would guess in his late teens. His face, though, was childlike and he was only an inch or two taller than her. He wore a dark cloak covering his entire body and, as she watched him, he smirked. His eyes, a bright green hue, sparkled with mischief as he watched her.

Dahlia was distracted from his face, however, as she felt herself sink further into the tree and, to her horror, the bark closed around behind them. Now, they were inside the tree itself and, in a second, everything went pitch black. She could hear her own breathing, but not his, though she knew he was there as he was still holding her against the back of the tree.

For a moment, nothing moved. Faints shouts could be heard from outside, but soon everything grew silent.

After several agonizing moments, the tree opened up for them and the boy backed away from her, allowing her to move out of the tight enclosure. Once they were out, she turned on him, cautiously watching him take off his hood.

His hair was a dark color of red.

He smirked again at her. "Who are you?"

His accent sounded vaguely British. She crossed her arms and answered his question. "Dahlia Wood. You?"

"Oh, how thoughtless of me. I thought everyone knew who I was." He bowed mockingly. "The name's Pan, Peter Pan."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

"All children, except one, grow up." — J.M. Barrie

"Just course, you're Peter Pan," Dahlia said matter-a-factly. "You would be, because my day just had to get more complicated. Look, while I'm still alive and not stabbed in the head by an Indian's spear or eaten by a tree and I don't mean to push things when we've only just met, but you wouldn't happen to have any pixy dust on you, would you?"

Peter Pan, one of the famous characters in all of literature, stared over at her blankly.

She was pretty sure she wasn't being coherent in the slightest. However, she had had a trying day, being captured by pirates, having to escape the brig, nearly drowning in the tempestuous ocean, being chased by blood-hungry Indians, getting drenched in rain and mud, and now having to find pixy dust on an island riddled with unknown dangers. However, if Pan happened to have a bit of pixy dust on him, she could just put that in her transporter and be home within seconds. It was a long shot, but she felt pretty desperate.

Dahlia sighed. "Look, I'm having a pretty shitty day and it's all thanks to your shadow. So, if you could just give me a tiny bit of pixy dust, I'll call it even and get out of your hair."

Pan didn't respond immediately, but slowly began walking in a wide circle around her.

She turned with him as their eyes remained linked. What was he doing? Trying to intimidate her?

Finally he came to a stop and tipped his head to the side, still watching her. Finally, he smiled childishly. His wide grin sent a chill down her back. For some reason, his smile seemed sinister, like the smile of the Joker in Batman. Creepy.

Dahlia tried again. "I'm going to take that as a no. And, if that is the case, I'd better go find my frien—acquaintance, actually. He's probably still being chased by Indians." She backed up, almost frightened to turn her back on him.

But then she felt someone or something touch her back.

Dahlia whirled, staring into the empty forest beyond her. "What the hell was that?"

She turned back to Pan, and was surprised that his smile was gone and his expression now looked dark. He took a step towards her.

"Well, well, well, look what the pretty girl befriended."

Dahlia looked carefully around her, trying to see whatever he seemed to be talking to. When she decided it definitely looked like they were alone, she turned back to him. "I'm assuming the 'pretty girl' would refer to me, which usually I would take as a compliment. But I really doubt you meant it as a one. Who exactly did I befriend?"

Pan didn't speak, but instead took a step closer to her. Dahlia stood her ground. She was not afraid of this boy. He leaned towards her.

"Wanna see something cool?"

It wasn't his playful tone, but the words themselves that made her pause. Cool? Cool was a modern term. This story took place at the turn of the century, decades before teens used 'cool' to refer to something amazing or great.

"What time period are you from exactly?" Dahlia asked, trying not to be intimidated by his closeness.

He smirked. "I am not of time, surely _you_ know that."

"Do you know me?"

"What do you need the pixy dust for?"

"Why did you save me from Indians?"

"Why are you in Neverland?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"What's in your bag?"

"Endless possibilities, like this island."

That made him pause. Finally, he asked, "Who sent you to Neverland? Are you a spy for Hook?"

"Funny, he asked me the very same thing about you. I'll give you the same response I gave him: no. But you probably wouldn't believe it, because he didn't."

"Don't judge me on Hook's merit, Lia."

Dahlia froze. _Lia_. No one had called her Lia since her mom…

"Please don't call me that," Dahlia whispered, her lips pursed.

"Why? You said your name was Dahlia."

"Yes, not Lia. Dahlia. Very different."

Crash!

Thunder sounded around them so loudly it felt like it shook the ground itself. Staring up through the trees towards the sky, Dahlia shivered as the sun was entirely blotted out with clouds. It could have been night if she hadn't known it wasn't.

She looked back at Pan. "I thought the weather was only bad in Neverland when you weren't here."

"What made you think that?"

"Nothing, just—"

Loud shouts sounded in the distance. This time, it sounded like English, making Dahlia suspect it wasn't the Indians coming back.

Pan listened for a moment, then turned towards Dahlia. "More of your friends?"

"I don't have friends. So no. Maybe Hook's crew?"

"As if they are stupid enough to come on this island."

"Unfortunately, you may be proved wrong, since Hook said he was planning to land in Cannibal Cove."

Pan lowered his voice, almost talking to himself instead of her. "Well, well, does the Captain plan to find my treasure?"

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Look, do you have pixy dust or don't you?"

The voices sounded like they were coming closer. All she needed was that pixy dust and she could get out of this crazy world.

The boy's smile came back. He turned towards the voices, and then back to Dahlia. "Yes, but not here. Come on."

He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along behind him. Oddly, though, he didn't lead her away from the voices, but instead towards them. When she resisted, he looked back at her.

"What are you doing? Do you want to get caught by whoever or whatever is out there?" Dahlia demanded when he continued tugging on her hand.

"Exactly. This is my island and I must know whoever or whatever is on it." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Doesn't that sound fun, as you seem to be a bit of a detective?"

With that he whirled—literally whirled—around her and swung his hand around her head clamping her mouth shut with his palm. His other hand wrapped around her arms and waist and, before she could react, he pulled her back behind some high bushes. There, he stopped as the voices sounded yards away from them. Dahlia contemplated struggling, but she figured she was too curious to give their spot away. Besides, it might put herself in danger and she—at least she told herself—was no fool.

To her surprise, it was not pirates or Indians that came in sight, but instead British navy soldiers. At least, that was who she assumed they were, taking into account their uniforms. Were they the crew of Callenback, perhaps? Unfortunately, they hardly looked friendlier than the Indians or the pirates.

"The compass isn't working, Captain," one of the men was complaining loudly, apparently not at all worried about who might hear him.

"Lower your voice, before I cut out your tongue."

The one who spoke seemed to be this 'captain' the other man referred to. He was big and burly, with a hard face and thin beard. It was too dark to see him well, but already Dahlia didn't like this man.

"We don't need the compass," the captain continued. "Nothing will stop us from finding it, hear me?"

Slowly, the group of men moved away, out of sight behind the trees.

When all was silent, Dahlia calmly bit down on Pan's hand which was still covering her mouth. He yelped and let her go. She moved away from him and turned, watching him cuddle his wounded hand.

"Why did you do that?" He demanded, his face contorted in pain and anger.

"Maybe next time you will remember I am not a rag doll."

He took a step nearer to her, clearly angry. His eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes were on fire. She took a step away from him when he reached under his cloak and drew out a knife, aiming it at her.

Dahlia knew she had a pocketknife in her bag, but she doubted she could get it out in time if he lunged at her. What kind of mad world was this, where the childish hero Peter Pan was pulling knives out on people?

Instead, she grabbed the closest weapon, a branch next to her feet.

"Now, now, nobody has to get psycho." Dahlia tried to keep her voice even.

For a moment, she was distracted from his knife-wielding by movement out of the corner of her eyes. She shifted her gaze, expecting Indians or British soldiers to appear out of the brush. Instead, she stared around in awe as she was surrounded by a group of young and very disgruntled boys.

"And you, I would assume—" she gripped the branch harder, "—must be the Lost Boys."

Peter Pan grinned, lowering his knife. When he talked, he wasn't addressing her.

"Boys, bring her to the camp."


	7. Chapter 7

7.

"Of course Neverland had been make-believe in those days; but it was real now, and there were no night-lights, and it was getting darker every moment…" — J. M. Barrie

Dahlia stared at the twenty or so boys around her. All of them looked younger than both her and Peter Pan. Some of them might have been sixteen or seventeen, but most of them looked to be in their late tweens and early teens. Still, she had expected for them all to be little kids, not teens. Why was everyone older than in the original? Was something happening on the island that caused them to grow older, and caused storms to come?

Currently, she sat on a truly uncomfortable rock in the middle of what looked to be the Lost Boys' camp. They had led her there—she didn't have much of a choice, since she had been outnumbered and most of them were near her size. However, she had assumed that they were going to tie her up or imprison her by some means as the pirates had. But no, instead they were doing something much more terrifying: just staring at her.

No one said anything. Dahlia's eyes searched for Peter Pan. He sat a distance away from the rest on a log, whittling a stick with the same knife he had pulled on her earlier. His face looked calm, though he seemed to be concentrating completely on his project. She assumed he had forgotten about her, which could be a good thing but then again it could be a bad thing.

She turned her eyes back to the staring faces.

"If you stare too long, your faces might freeze like that," Dahlia pointed out.

One of the Lost Boys—the oldest, it looked like, considering he looked to be almost the same age as Pan—pulled out a knife and began fingering it with his free hand, gentle enough not to cut himself.

"What should we do with her, Pete?" the boy asked, his voice deep and British. Dahlia estimated him to be about seventeen, with a military style haircut and gangly limbs. He looked back towards Pan.

Dahlia watched him as he continued talking.

"We could fry her in our pot and give her bones to the wolves. Or we could cut off her skin, make a flag out of it, and place the flag on the beach for all to see."

The other boys cheered.

"Well, aren't you the little serial killer," Dahlia offered, trying to ascertain whether he was serious or not. He didn't seem to be joking, which should have scared her, but instead she was beginning to feel like this entire situation was hilarious. Maybe it was simply that her blood sugar was so low that she was starting to feel lightheaded, but this insane world was getting funnier by the moment.

Maybe her humor was just a little macabre.

The boy ignored her and continued talking to Peter. "We could always just bury her alive and listen to her screams until she suffocates."

"Dude, you need therapy." Dahlia let out a laugh.

The boy turned to her. "What did you call me? I know, Pete, she must be an escaped mental patient. She escaped and somehow ended up here."

He took a step closer to her, his knife jabbed out towards her. She leaned back and he came to where she sat, reaching down to press the blade of his knife against her neck. Again, she didn't move mostly because she had a feeling he didn't have to guts to really hurt her. That or she was becoming a masochist. Either way, she continued smiling up at him.

Pressing the knife harder against her throat, he moved his tan face closer to her. "It would take me two seconds to cut open your mouth. Then you could always smile."

"And it would make cosplaying as the Joker so much easier."

The boy raised the knife to her cheek and gently stroked her face with it. Unconsciously, Dahlia tightened her hold on her arms. Now she was getting annoyed.

"You think you are so big and strong because you have that little knife. You think wielding a stupid weapon on a girl makes you powerful. No, it just makes you pathetic."

The boy grabbed ahold of her throat with his hand, pulling her up out of her seat.

"You really want me to cut you, don't you?"

"Let her go, Jack."

Pan's voice sounded behind the boy and "Jack" immediately released her. He backed up and Dahlia could see Pan rise from his seat, drop the stick he was carving, and move towards the group. Crossing his arms, he came to a stop next to the boys farthest away from her.

"Disperse."

With Pan's words, every single one of the Lost Boys turned and ran out of the clearing, some climbing trees and some vanishing inside trees. Within seconds, everyone was gone. Again it was silent.

Instead of mentioning how one of his Lost Boys threatened to cut open her mouth, among other things, Pan instead completely changed the subject.

"To get pixy dust, we have to head across the island to the top of the mountain. It'll be hard to get there and it may take a while, but that's the only place where it's in excess."

Dahlia looked towards where Pan pointed. In the distance, Dahlia could make out a cliff between the trees. She took a step towards it, and then turned back to Pan. "Before I go wandering into a forest where most everything will probably want to kill me, I have a few questions. First, why would you help me? Second, are your Lost Boys usually this insane? Third, why do you need to go up the mountain to get pixy dust? You're Peter Pan. Don't you have pixy dust with you all the time? Or with Tinker Bell? Where is she anyway?"

Pan crossed his arms. "Tinker Bell is dead. For the rest, you don't need to know."

He turned and walked out of the camp towards the forest, as if expecting Dahlia to follow him.

Before moving, though, she paused for a moment to think. What the hell was going on? Tinker Bell was dead? She could deal with everything else, but Tinker Bell dead? And, if Tinker Bell was dead, was that why Peter Pan was no longer flying? Why he didn't have any pixy dust on hand because the fairy was the one who always gave him it? And why would pixy dust be up at the mountain? Wouldn't it be with fairies who lived inside of the trees? Unless the fairies had been forced out for some reason. But, if this was Pan's island, why couldn't he stop whatever was happening?

For some reason, in an instant, Dahlia turned from being overwhelmed to being determined. She wanted to find out what was going on. She was going to become the Sherlock Holmes of Neverland. Even if she had to turn every stone over, she was going to solve this apparent darkness that seemed to have taken over one of the most lighthearted places in fiction.

With a firm stride, Dahlia headed out of the camp after a boy whose immortality seemed to be slipping away by the second.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

" 'Do you know,' Peter asked, 'why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.' " – J. M. Barrie

"What is happening to the island?"

Pan made no indication that he had heard Dahlia's question and continued walking silently in front of her.

Dahlia walked quickly to catch up, and grabbed ahold of his sleeve, stopping him. "Pan, you may want to keep your reasons for helping me to yourself, but you have to admit that nothing that is happening is normal. I don't care how egotistical or immature you are. Tinker Bell is dead. People are coming from the outside world. The Indians were always friendly. The pirates never dared to come on the island. I'm still trying to figure out why all this is happening, but surely you know."

When Peter Pan glanced back at her, she was surprised how tired he looked. She hadn't noticed the dark bags under his eyes before, or how gaunt he looked.

"Why do you want to know?" Pan asked.

"Because I might be able to help?"

"I doubt it. You'd just make it worse."

"What worse?"

"Look, you want to go home and I want you off my island. We have a common goal. I get you pixy dust, you get off my island. Everyone wins."

"Why is everything dying on the island? You're aging, so are the other Lost Boys. Storms are coming. What's happening?"

"Why do you care? I might ask why you came here."

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Dahlia took a deep breath. As everything seemed so messed up already, she doubted her story would mess up things any more. "I'm part of an organization called LEA. It stands for Literary Extraction Agency. We're sent into different…worlds to find something. Unfortunately, when I got here I released your shadow, which broke me transporter. Now, I need pixy dust to be able to power my transporter to get home."

She showed him the small watch-like transporter she sported on her wrist.

He looked at it for a second, and then his eyes turned back on her. "What were you sent to get?"

"A scroll from Captain Hook."

"What scroll?"

"I'm not allowed to know."

"Really? Aren't you curious? You seem the type to shove your nose in everything that isn't your business."

"Of course I'm curious, but I made a promise to someone that I can't break. A long time ago. When I was in a position I couldn't get out without help. He saved me, and I promised to return the favor. My point is I wasn't supposed to stay here. One of the rules we are given when we join the organization is that we will never be seen by anyone. As you can guess, I'm breaking that rule right now. But I have no choice."

"Still, why do you want to help?"

"Because I have a feeling that by me breaking that rule, I have started something into motion that I have to fix."

Pan snorted. "Trust me, darling, it wasn't you who started it and it most certainly won't be you who ends it."

"Really, how do you know?"

"Because it's been happening for seven years, ever since Patrick left."

"Patrick? Was he one of the lost boys? What does he have to do with what's happening?"

"Everything…and nothing." Peter Pan shrugged her hand off his arm and turned to continue walking. "We have to reach the mountains by dark."

"Why? What happens at night?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Lia."

"First, don't call me that and second, if I didn't, how would I learn anything?"

"If you want me to answer any of your questions, show me the scroll you were sent here for."

"No."

"Then hurry and keep up."

He clearly wasn't planning to say anything more, so Dahlia shrugged and followed him. As she walked, the clues rolled around in her head. Tinker Bell was dead. Why? Something happened seven years ago, which would explain why Pan looked eighteen instead of eleven like he should be. But what happened?

Finally, after walking in silence for some distant, Dahlia called to Pan. "Hey, kid, you wouldn't happen to know where I could find some food on this island. I haven't eaten for, like, a day. And, if I don't get something to eat soon, I may pass out before we get up the mountain."

Pan paused. "Can't it wait? We should be there in an hour."

"Didn't you hear me? I've been lightheaded since we started walking. If I don't get anything to eat soon, I will faint. And then what are you going to do."

He glanced around the forest nervously. "Alright, but let's make it quick."

Turning, Peter Pan headed for a tree and literally jumped up the branches. In a flash, he was out of sight in the greenery surrounding them. Dahlia could hear slight rustling above her, but she couldn't tell if it was Pan or just the wind.

Before she could brink twice, Pan dropped down right in front of her. Dahlia wasn't a highly skittish person, but even she had to jump a bit.

"Jeez!" Dahlia exclaimed as Pan rose in front of her, pushing a cluster of fruit in her direction. They looked a bit like pineapples, but a little different. She let out a breath and glared at him. "What it wrong with you? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Despite Pan's tired expression, he grinned. It was strange, Dahlia thought, that he should be such a contradiction. In certain ways, he seemed to have not matured at all from the childish and selfish boy she had grown to love reading about in the original book. And yet in other ways he was more hardened, colder. If he had matured, it was in an almost twisted way as if he had a split personality: the childish one and the hardened one. She almost felt sorry for him, despite the fact that when she was a child she wanted to be him.

Cautiously, Dahlia took the bushel of fruits in her hands. "Um, how am I supposed to eat these?"

Pan took the fruit from her and walked over to some rocks. Taking out his knife, he peeled the fruit adeptly, and within seconds, he used the exterior as a sort of bowl and offered it to Dahlia.

Taking it, she settled on a hard rock. "Impressive knife skills."

He ignored her, taking the knife and cutting up another one. Finally, when he had finished, he took a seat across from her on a neighboring rock. When he was seated, he commented, "I am one of the best fencers in the world. A smaller knife means nothing to me."

Dahlia nodded and began eating the fruit. It was good, tasting more like a mango than a pineapple, only sweeter. Her stomach grumbled happily in welcome to the food. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until the moment, but she forced herself to eat slowly so that she wouldn't get sick.

Finally, when she started feeling a bit better, she glanced back up at Pan, who sat eating quietly watching her. When she looked up, his eyes fell to his food. She sighed, reminding herself that this was just a kid in front of her.

"How old are you now?" Dahlia asked.

Pan looked back up, shrugging. "Don't know, either eighteen or nineteen. It's been too long to remember."

"You're kidding me? You're my age."

"Really? You look older."

"I get that a lot."

"What world do you come from?"

"Earth, year 2015."

He paused. "I see. And is Dahlia Wood your real name?"

"Is Peter Pan your real name?"

"It is now."

"And so is mine."

They sat staring at each other for a moment, an awkward silence settling around them as the forest's noises became noticeable.

"Lia?" Pan asked.

"I told you…"

"Are you afraid of death?"

Dahlia paused in her correction, and thought a moment. "No. I mean, I suppose when I'm dying I might be afraid, but isn't death just another adventure? Another mystery to solve? And I've always loved mysteries. I guess the most terrifying thing to me is fear itself. That something might inhibit me from living the life I want. Why? Are you afraid of death?"

"Yes. I'm afraid of growing older and fading away into oblivion."

She smiled. Now that sounded like a line Peter Pan would say. "Sorry to point this out, but you already are. And why would you want to stay a child forever. I say this from personal experience, but being a child means you're powerless." She stared up at the sky. "I never want to go back to that time."

For some reason, Dahlia felt her eyes filling with tears. Shaking them away, she stood up, placing the empty fruit bowl on the rock below her.

"Well, I'm done. We should get going. It's going to be evening soon."

She turned away to head out of the clearing and froze as she faced the end of a pistol.

The British captain she had seen earlier sneered at her as she heard other soldiers enter the clearing. They were surrounded.

Pan rose and came to stand calmly beside Dahlia, surprising her by taking ahold of her hand.

In a soft voice, he whispered so only she could hear him. "Now the games begin."


	9. Chapter 9

9.

"It is not in doing what you like, but in liking what you do that is the secret of happiness." – J. M. Barrie

One year ago…

Dahlia stared at the ceiling of the prison cell above her cot, counting the number of tiles for the umpteenth time. At least it gave her something to do. She had run out of reading the limited amount of books provided for the inmates.

Suddenly, the sound of her cell door unlocked roused her from her counting.

A prison guard, a buff woman with buck teeth, entered.

"Yo, Getz, you have a visitor."

Dahlia blinked, puzzled. No one had visited her since the day she had entered this damn place. She didn't think she would see anyone either, not for the twenty plus years she would be in prison for double homicide.

"You sure they came to see me?" Dahlia asked.

"You questionin' me?"

"No, I would never do that."

She pushed herself off of her butt and headed for the door. The guard led her to the typical visiting room, pushed her in, and left her.

Dahlia stared around. It was a simple room with a plain plastic table and a chair on either side. She expected her guest to be sitting in the far chair, but instead he was standing in one of the corners, leaning against the wall.

She had never seen him in her life. The man was tall, probably in his early sixties, with greying hair covered with a grey bowler hat. His suit was old, but nicely fitted and sleek. In his right hand he held a thin wood walking stick, which he tapped impatiently on the floor. When she entered, however, he stopped and looked her up and down.

"Dahlia Getz?" His voice was higher and slightly nasally, with a thin British accent.

Dahlia nodded slowly. "Yes. Who are you?"

He came forward delicately, his abnormally long nose stuck slightly in the air. "Miss Getz, my name is Elat Yriaf." He thrust his card forward and she took it slowly. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Cautiously, Dahlia took one of the seats and Mr. Yriaf took the opposite one.

"Miss Getz, I have an offer for you."

"Excuse me, but I don't even know you. Why would I—"

He interrupted her before she could continue. "Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."

"Pardon?"

"Women can always put things in fewest words. Except when it's blowing up; and then they lengthen it out."

Dahlia crossed her arms. "Are you trying to insult me?"

"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly, then your love would also change."

"Hold it! Are you quoting Shakespeare? That's _Romeo and Juliet,_ right? And the last one was _Oliver Twist_ , and _Pride and Prejudice_. Why the hell are you quoting the classics?"

Mr. Yriaf smiled and mirrored her action by crossing his arms. "I'm impressed. You know your classical literature."

"Well, I don't have much else to do in this hellhole. Look, did you know my mother?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no, and I feel that lack of acquaintanceship most profusely. No, I knew your father when he was very young."

"My father?" Dahlia had never met her father. He had died before she was born. "Even so, why are you here? I don't even remember my father."

"I came to offer you a job."

Dahlia stared at him cynically. "A job? Dude, I'm in prison. I can't have a job, unless you count laundry duty as a job."

"No, I mean I can get you out of jail."

"Pardon?"

"I am the owner and director of LEA. It stands for Literary Extraction Agency."

"Literary Extra—what? What kind of company is that?"

"Your father worked for me before he met your mother. He was my brightest employees, and I was sad to lose him."

"Yes, yes, how tragic for you. But what does the company do?"

"You're sarcastic like him too." He leaned closer, uncrossing his arms and folds his hands on the table. "My organization examines literary works on a deeper level. In essence, we look for the vital part of the story and keep it for our data. We store it to gain a deeper sense into understanding of the world."

Dahlia blinked. "Right…so you guys are scholars?"

"Of a sort. We are more hands-on than a regular scholar would be, though."

"How so?"

"That matter is delicate, and I must ask you not to repeat what I am about to say to anyone."

"Yeah, cause I totally have friends in this prison. Who do expect me to talk to: the laundry?"

His smile was faint, but it was there. "One man created a type of device—a bit like a Star Trek transporter—that can transport people wearing certain devices into literary works. Once there, they have a mission to get something and get out. The particulars, we will get to later. However, a transportee must never look at the document picked up in the story. How's that?"

She wasn't sure if this was a dream or a nightmare—maybe he was a lunatic. "Right, so you want me to work for you by going into literary works and collecting things, which sounds like a completely sane thing to do? Why?"

"I cannot tell you that much. I and a select few are the only ones who know."

"Why would I take a job that you won't tell me anything rational about?"

"Because I can get you out of prison if you accept the job."

Dahlia paused. She had been in here for a year…a year since her mother died. She had graduated high school in prison. She had celebrated her eighteenth birthday in prison. This job, though obscure, seemed like a dream come true.

"But how would you be able to get me out of prison."

"Will you take the job?"

"It can't be much worse than this, can it?"

Mr. Yriaf smiled and reached into his jacket, pulling out a document and a pen. Placing it on the table, he pushed it over to her. "If you're willing, sign here."

Dahlia glanced down at the document. Was this what the devil's contract looked like? She glanced over the contents. It was one page long. In summary, it was pretty much a silence agreement to not tell anything learned about LEA to anyone under pain of prosecution. She signed it, knowing she would probably regret it later.

Taking the paper and pen, he put it back in his pocket and reached out his hand to shake hers. "It'll be a pleasure to work with you, Dahlia."

"Great, so how are you getting me released from prison."

As she said those words, she took his hand and, in an instant, the world fell away and, when it returned, they were in an entirely white room. Dahlia dropped his hand and took a step back.

"What the hell!" She voiced, her tone echoed and distant. Where were they?

Mr. Yriaf gestured around him. "Welcome to LEA, Dahlia. From this day forth, you are one of my agents. You will no longer by Dahlia Getz, you are Dahlia Wood. The girl you were before has been erased as if you never existed. You are free to live a life outside of prison, without a shadow hanging over your head. You only need to work for me."

Dahlia turned towards him, narrowing her eyes. "For how long?"

"Until you turn twenty."

"But that's only two years."

"True, but you can choose to stay longer, if you like. Come, you should meet the other workers."

"Wait, is Elat Yriaf your real name?"

"No, why?"

"Because it's fairy tale backwards."

"Precisely."

Dahlia shook her head as her new boss gestured her out of a huge transporting machine and into her new life.


	10. Chapter 10

10.

"Would you like an adventure now, or would like to have your tea first?" – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia surveyed the British soldiers before her, taking a deep breath. Now that she wasn't ready to faint from hunger, she felt clearheaded enough to deal with this madness.

Pan, however, took a step in front of her before she could and dropped her hand. Spreading his arms wide to gesture around the forest, he pronounced in a loud voice, "Welcome, gentlemen, to Neverland."

The captain, the gruff middle-aged fellow, didn't move his gun down. Instead, he turned it to point at Pan instead of Dahlia. "And who might you be?"

"You know, I really hate to have to introduce myself twice in one day, especially considering this is my island. So why don't you say your name first."

Dahlia was amazed how calm Pan was, considering there was a gun pointed straight into his face. She was even more surprised when the British captain smiled.

"Captain Arnold Smith of _The Second Star_ , at your service. And I'm guessing you must be Peter Pan. You're older than I expected." Smith glanced back at Dahlia. "And who's this? Wendy?"

"My guest," Pan responded before Dahlia could open her mouth. "May I ask what business you have on my island?"

Captain Arnold Smith let out a cold, gruff laugh. "My business is you, actually. And it looks like my job was made a bit simpler by you falling straight into my lap."

Pan smiled back. "I wouldn't say we were close enough to sit in each other's laps, captain. And I apologize, but I don't give out autographs anymore."

"Aren't you the little comical devil? You seem under the impression that you have control over the situation. And, considering you don't have much power left, I doubt you do anymore."

Pan's face remained passive, but Dahlia noticed him clench his fist. She glanced around to see if anyone else saw it, but the British soldiers seemed surprisingly oblivious to the conversation the man and boy were having and instead were staring fearfully out into the forest. While she had to admit she had had some bad experiences with it, the forest didn't seem that dangerous.

Suddenly, she became acutely aware of rustling in the trees. She shouldn't have been unnerved by it, considered there was wind all the time in a forest. And yet something about the sound gave her discomfort as a chill set in around her.

She tried to focus on the captain's words.

"Right now, I have the upper hand. You want to know who I am, Peter, well you'll soon know. I'm your worst nightmare. Men, seize him and his girl."

The wind picked up even more as leaves whirled fiercely around the clearing, centering around Pan. The captain faltered for a second, his gun falling down several inches.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, boy?"

Pan calmly took a step towards the captain. Now, the gun rested directly against his heart. His smile grew colder. "Oh, captain, I may be growing older, but who said I was powerless."

"Dahlia…"

The voice was so soft, but what chilled Dahlia was that it came right next to her ear, as if someone was standing directly behind her. She jumped and turned, but the nearest person was a British soldier nearly three yards away.

As she looked up in the sky, though, she saw it.

The shadow. The shadow she had seen on Captain Hook's ship.

She looked frantically back down at Pan, as the wind began blowing so fiercely she couldn't hear any of the shouts of the captain, yet he must have been shouting since his mouth continued to move.

Peter Pan slowly stepped away from the captain, still smiling. He turned back towards Dahlia, and took a step towards her.

Dahlia took a step back.

Pan took a step forward.

Dahlia took a step back.

Pan took two wide strides, and grabbed Dahlia by the waist, pulling her into his arms. Holding her tightly to him, he leaned down and shouted in her ear. It was probably the only way she could have heard him anyway.

"Don't move. Trust me."

Darkness enveloped them. No, that wasn't quite right. It was the shadow that enveloped them, wrapping around them until they were in a blank, black space. Dahlia wasn't even sure they were on the ground anymore.

Suddenly, the darkness fell away. However, they were no longer in the forest. They were on rocks, on a cliff, to be more precise. Inches away from a sheer drop.

Pan loosened his hold on Dahlia and she pushed away from him. Her heart was beating fast, but she told herself it was because of the ordeal she had just witnessed.

"What just happened?" Her voice sounded hoarse and strange to her ears.

Then she noticed Pan was shaking. She wasn't sure it was from fear or the cold, but his entire body was literally shaking. Right next to the edge of the cliff.

Dahlia took a step forward, grabbing his shoulders with her hands. "Pan, what's wrong?"

His eyes looked dazed. The cool, confident man who had stood up to Captain Smith moments before was gone. Now, all he looked like was a frightened boy.

Carefully, Dahlia led him away from the edge of the cliff and made him sit down on a rock several yards away. He didn't say a word but did as she prompted, his lip quivering.

"I'll go look for some food to calm your nerves." At least, eating always helped Dahlia calm her nerves.

She rose to go and find something, but Pan reached up and grabbed her hand before she had gone two steps. She turned and saw him staring up at her, a look of desperation filling his eyes.

"Please…don't leave me."

Dahlia turned and crouched down in front of him, looking up seriously in his eyes.

"Are you ready to tell me what is going on?"

Pan shook his head. "I can't. He'll kill me."

"Who?"

"My shadow."

"Why would your shadow kill you?"

Pan again shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Stupid girl, why did you have to come here now?"

Without warning, Pan reached out and grabbed Dahlia's face in his hands.

"Why—" he started, a glare coming into his eyes, "—do you have to look so much like her."

Dahlia didn't move, though her head was screaming that she should get away from this psychotic lunatic. Instead, she asked, "Who?"

"Wendy."

"Wendy?" Dahlia echoed. Why in the world would Pan think she looked like Wendy? Well, she supposed she didn't know what Wendy looked like, since a book doesn't exactly give a picture of all the characters. "You must have cared a lot about her."

"No. At least, not the way she wanted me to. She was my friend…or so I thought."

Dahlia noticed his hands, still holding her face, weren't shaking anymore.

"Do you feel better?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Then would you please get your hands off me."

Pan released her, rising quickly. Dahlia rose also so they were the same height.

"So…" she started, "What now?"

He walked away from her several feet, surveying their location. "Well, at least he was helpful this time. We're on the mountain. We should reach the fairy cave within minutes. And you'll be able to go home." He glanced back at her. "You can forget all of this. You can forget me."

Again, he walked away from her. That seemed to be his habit, continuously walking away.

Dahlia took a deep breath. He was putting on a brave face, but he couldn't cover up the reality she had just seen. His weakness. His vulnerability.

He had asked her if she was afraid of death, and now she knew why.

Something was killing him, slowly, painfully…she just hoped she was wrong in her diagnosis.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

"When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies." – J. M. Barrie

As Dahlia and Pan made their way through the cliffs and rocks of the mountain towards some destination, she watched Pan carefully to see if her diagnosis had been right. Maybe she was just being dramatic. Just because he got sick for a bit and looked tired didn't necessarily mean he was dying, right? He could have just come down with a cold. Of course, the thought that Peter Pan himself got a cold seemed rather hilarious for some reason, but it was a plausible explanation.

Finally, they passed the seven hundredth rock and turned the corner into a dark cave. At the edge, Pan paused.

"There is no light in the cave, so stay close to me."

Dahlia sighed. "Seriously, I've got a flashlight if you want it."

"A what?"

"Or a torch."

"Do you?"

Dahlia reached into her bag and pulled out her flashlight, flicking the switch. Nothing happened. It couldn't be that the batteries had died already: she'd just changed them for her last mission. Then she remembered that her flashlight had taken the dunk into the ocean with her.

"Damn," she voiced out loud. "It's dead."

Pan smiled. "Don't worry, I don't need it. I know these caves inside and out. I don't need light to find the way. Besides, fairies aren't too fond of bright light. Here." He held out his hand. "Take my hand and stay close to me. I will guide you."

Was this some sort of crazy trust exercise like her boss had her do once in while? She sighed. While the prospect of traversing a dark cave and stubbing her toes was hardly exciting, she didn't have much of a choice at the moment. She needed that pixy dust.

Nodding, Dahlia took Pan's offered hand. He turned and started into the darkness. She followed slowly behind him. Luckily, his pace was slow, giving her a chance to feel her steps before she made them. Soon, she realized he wasn't joking about how well he knew these caves. Every few steps, he would whisper directions about stepping down or stepping up or stepping around something. Dahlia was amazed how he could remember every single step perfectly.

Within moments, the light coming from the mouth of the cave vanished and they were in pure darkness. And yet, Pan continued on without pausing. It wasn't long until Dahlia could make out a soft light coming from up ahead. It certainly didn't seem bright enough to be outside, and instead looked more like hundreds of fireflies dancing around and lighting up the cave walls.

As they entered a small alcove away from the rest of the tunnels, Dahlia stared in wonder at the millions of tiny fairies flying around a tree growing right out of the rock and up the middle of the room. Vines and branches climbed and clung to the walls. Inside the tree, Dahlia could just make out what looked to be a tiny city.

She turned to look at Pan, only to find him watching her. He turned away the moment their eyes connected. Strange. That was the second time she had caught him looking at her. What was he trying to figure out about her?

Dahlia turned back to the room. "This…this place. It's beautiful. But why is it here? Why isn't it in the forest?"

Pan took a step forward as fairies began to flutter closer to them. He held out his hand and several fairies landed on it. "This is the only place where they are safe."

"But how did this get here?"

"I moved it here. Eight years ago."

Dahlia took a step forward. "What exactly happened eight years ago? You mentioned someone named Patrick. Who was he?"

Pan paused. "Wendy's husband."

"Wendy's husband? I thought he was a Lost Boy."

"He was."

"Wendy married a lost boy?"

"Patrick wasn't an ordinary lost boy."

Squeak! Dahlia jumped as the sound came from next to her ear. She turned her head to spot a flock of tiny fairies fluttering her left ear. As they were so close, she could just make out the words behind the high squeaks.

"She's the one, isn't she?" One of the fairies was saying.

"No, she's not. She's too old."

"She's not _that_ old."

"But she looks just like Wendy. I tell you she's the one."

"Well, we should ask the old one to be sure."

Dahlia tried to follow which fairy was saying what, but they were speaking far too fast for her to pay attention to which of their mouths were moving when. She glanced back to Pan for help. However, he seemed to have left her, walking over to the tree and bending down next to it. Dahlia followed slowly, afraid she might squish one of the fairies if she went too quickly. Crouching down next to Pan, she tried to see what was going on. Only when she was on the ground did she realize he was talking to someone in a quiet voice.

"I have come to beg you to spare us a small amount of pixy dust in order to take this girl home."

Dahlia squinted her eyes to see who he might be talking to. Down below, there appeared to be a little hole in the tree which opened up into a tiny fairy square. Sitting on the top of the buildings appeared to be an incredibly fat male fairy. Dahlia didn't know fairies even got fat, but this one most certainly was huge.

The huge fairy that Pan appeared to be talking to shook his head.

"That will be hard, Peter. We are still recovering and have little to spare."

"I know, but this is important. I must get her out of here before something happens to her."

Dahlia's eyebrows rose at Pan's concern for her. She wasn't sure if he was really concerned, or if he was simply trying to convince her he was good.

"Well," the fairy started. "I suppose we can spare a bit. How much do you need?"

Pan turned to Dahlia. "Show him the device you need filled. He can fill it for you."

Dahlia gave Pan a cynical expression. Another one of the rules of her job was never take the transporter off. But she had broken most of the other rules, so why would she stop now? Sighing, she unclasped the transporter from her wrist and carefully placed it on the roof beside the fairy. The transporter itself was just about the same width and height as the fairy.

The fairy examined the transporter and then turned to look at Dahlia with wide eyes.

"This…this device is incredible. Did you make it?"

Dahlia shook her head. "No, it was designed by my boss's friend—I never met him. This one, however, was made by a friend of mine."

The fairy turned excitedly back to the transporter. "I've never seen something this detailed. It uses such a miniscule amount of magic to harass immense power. In the wrong hands, it could do unsurmountable damage. Or…" he looked over at Pan. "It could save Neverland."

Dahlia looked from Pan to the fairy and back again. Her transporter was for transporting from different worlds. It didn't have the ability to save Neverland.

"Excuse me," Dahlia interrupted. "But I doubt it does. This device was especially designed to compact the cells in a person to transport them to another place. I don't see how that would help save Neverland."

The fairy turned back to Dahlia. "What is your name, child?"

"Dahlia Wood."

"No, what is your real name?"

Dahlia paused. She hadn't said her real name for over a year, since she had received a visitor in that cold prison. She took a deep breath.

"Dahlia Getz."

"Indeed. That explains a lot." The fairy looked calm, but Pan didn't.

Pan stared at her in horror. "Getz? What was your father's name?"

"Michael Getz. Why?"

"Your grandfather?"

"I don't know my family history. My mom never talked about it. Why?"

The fairy was the one to respond. "Because the reason the island is like this is because one of the Lost Boys stole something that keeps goodness here. He is the reason we are all dying."

"And that Lost Boy was Patrick. What does that have to do with me?"

Pan responded this time. "Because Patrick's last name was Getz."


	12. Chapter 12

13.

"I don't want to go to school and learn solemn things." – J. B. Barrie

Eleven months ago…

Dahlia stared out the window towards the city long forgotten below. New York City was such a big place; a place to get lost in. She had lived here her entire life, but now it was entirely different. Now, she wasn't one of the tiny ants down there barely managing to survive. Now, she was standing in an elegant apartment, entirely hers, curtesy of LEA. Mr. Yriaf—her new boss, she supposed—had set her up in this apartment on the fourteenth floor of the Preston Apartment building. Under this very building, in disguise, was the headquarters of LEA itself, a massive underground building filled with empty rooms and curious devices.

Tomorrow, she would start her first job. It gave her a shiver to think that her life was completely different.

Knock! Knock!

Dahlia was roused from her sightseeing and turned towards her front door. It sounded weird, that she had her own door to have to answer. Hurrying over, Dahlia peeked through the eyehole. A tiny Asian man stood outside, his hair spiked red and huge glasses accentuating his small eyes.

Opening the door slowly, Dahlia looked him up and down. He seemed like a geek, in the kindest sense. In his hands he held a huge bag, stuffed to the brim with cogs and electrical parts, some of which jotted out strangely.

"Yeah?" She asked.

The man smiled widely. He was younger than she at first thought, maybe in his early twenties. And he was a couple inches shorter than her.

"Hey, you must be Dahlia. Elat told me you'd be settling in." Without a welcome, the young man pushed past her into the apartment, continuing to talk, "Wow, nice apartment. It sucks that I have only this tiny room next to the lab in the basement. I mean, seriously, look at your view. You wouldn't mind if I came up here once in a while, just a look out here. I mean, wow. Oh, and I'd bring food. I know this great Chinese place down the street. I know what you're thinking, why would a Korean guy be liking Chinese food, but it's not really Chinese food, is it? It's more like American Chinese food. And I'm American all the way. Oh, do you happen to have some water? I'm parched."

Dahlia crossed her arms, slightly bemused. Was this the town lunatic? If so, he was very amusing. "Actually, I was going to ask: who are you exactly?"

"Oh, sorry. I tend to get way ahead of myself. The name's Jay. I'm one of the engineers at LEA. I make sure everything runs smoothly when you're in there. In the books, I mean. I've been assigned to you. You're my first full position, so I'm kind of excited. Plus, you're the only one around here near my age. Most of these people are pushing sixty, or probably a lot more. Anyway, it's nice to see a new face. Tell me, do you watch Pokémon?"

"Uh, no, I've never watched much TV. I'm more into books."

"Ever read some manga?"

"Not really, I prefer books that are a bit older."

"Oh, so that's why Elat picked you. You're into all this stuff."

Dahlia raised her eyebrows as Jay went unbidden into the kitchen to find a glass of water. As he moved, Dahlia asked, "If you aren't into any of this stuff, why do you work here? I thought this job was all about the classics?"

"That's more my dad's field of expertise. I just work here because the pay is great. Plus, I mean, it's pretty cool. Traveling into novels. I mean, it would be cooler if I could jump into one of _my_ favorites and see Ash, but I guess it's still pretty cool." He took a swig of water. "Ah, that's better. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I forgot."

He moved over to his bag, which he had dropped inside the door, and rummaged through it. Pulling out something that looked a bit like a watch, he handed it to Dahlia.

"This is your transporter. This is the little baby I've been working on for months. It's perfect. It works so much better than the original, the one most of the employees use. Yours is stronger, and lighter. Just don't break it, cause I love it to bits. Better than any girlfriend."

Dahlia didn't comment on how sad his last statement sounded, and simply took the device in her hands, examining it. It looked a bit like a watch, but so much more intricate. "How does it work?" She asked.

"It's simple." He moved over next to her. "See this little hourglass shape. This is where the magic is. Don't ask me where they get it, cause no one'll tell me. Anyway, this right here is two buttons. This top one takes you into the book. I can program for you which one. And this one takes you home. I made it as simple as possible. It's waterproof and mostly fireproof, but don't go jumping into lava just to find out."

"Yeah, cause if I jump into lava the worst of my worries will be breaking my transporter. Sooo…" Dahlia glanced at her weird coworker. "Do you know where I'm going tomorrow?"

"Ever heard of Charles Dickens?"

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Who hasn't?"

"Well, you're heading into the French Revolution to find a book."

"You mean _A Tale of Two Cities_?" Dahlia's heard began to thump in her chest. This was really happening. She still didn't believe it.

"Yep, sounds like it. Oh, I'll give you the rule book. You have to follow these rules to a T, or Elat will kill both of us."

Dahlia took the small pamphlet he handed her into her palm. She opened it to the first page. She read the first number: _Never be seen_.

She glanced back up at Jay, who was pealing one of her bananas. "Why can't I be seen? And, above all that, why did Elat make me promise not to look at the object I'm sent for?"

Jay shrugged. "Don't know. I only know what I'm told. They say that it'll mess with the story. I mean, how is that possible; it's just a story. But rules are rules, and I don't plan on losing my job just to find out what it's like to break the rules."

Dahlia looked down at the rulebook. The second number said: _Don't open the object._

"You want to play Dark Souls?"

Dahlia glanced up. She had never been fond of video games, but then again she hadn't thought she would ever go to prison either. Sighing, she shrugged.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

"I don't want to go to school and learn solemn things." – J. B. Barrie

Eleven months ago…

Dahlia stared out the window towards the city long forgotten below. New York City was such a big place; a place to get lost in. She had lived here her entire life, but now it was entirely different. Now, she wasn't one of the tiny ants down there barely managing to survive. Now, she was standing in an elegant apartment, entirely hers, curtesy of LEA. Mr. Yriaf—her new boss, she supposed—had set her up in this apartment on the fourteenth floor of the Preston Apartment building. Under this very building, in disguise, was the headquarters of LEA itself, a massive underground building filled with empty rooms and curious devices.

Tomorrow, she would start her first job. It gave her a shiver to think that her life was completely different.

Knock! Knock!

Dahlia was roused from her sightseeing and turned towards her front door. It sounded weird, that she had her own door to have to answer. Hurrying over, Dahlia peeked through the eyehole. A tiny Asian man stood outside, his hair spiked red and huge glasses accentuating his small eyes.

Opening the door slowly, Dahlia looked him up and down. He seemed like a geek, in the kindest sense. In his hands he held a huge bag, stuffed to the brim with cogs and electrical parts, some of which jotted out strangely.

"Yeah?" She asked.

The man smiled widely. He was younger than she at first thought, maybe in his early twenties. And he was a couple inches shorter than her.

"Hey, you must be Dahlia. Elat told me you'd be settling in." Without a welcome, the young man pushed past her into the apartment, continuing to talk, "Wow, nice apartment. It sucks that I have only this tiny room next to the lab in the basement. I mean, seriously, look at your view. You wouldn't mind if I came up here once in a while, just a look out here. I mean, wow. Oh, and I'd bring food. I know this great Chinese place down the street. I know what you're thinking, why would a Korean guy be liking Chinese food, but it's not really Chinese food, is it? It's more like American Chinese food. And I'm American all the way. Oh, do you happen to have some water? I'm parched."

Dahlia crossed her arms, slightly bemused. Was this the town lunatic? If so, he was very amusing. "Actually, I was going to ask: who are you exactly?"

"Oh, sorry. I tend to get way ahead of myself. The name's Jay. I'm one of the engineers at LEA. I make sure everything runs smoothly when you're in there. In the books, I mean. I've been assigned to you. You're my first full position, so I'm kind of excited. Plus, you're the only one around here near my age. Most of these people are pushing sixty, or probably a lot more. Anyway, it's nice to see a new face. Tell me, do you watch Pokémon?"

"Uh, no, I've never watched much TV. I'm more into books."

"Ever read some manga?"

"Not really, I prefer books that are a bit older."

"Oh, so that's why Elat picked you. You're into all this stuff."

Dahlia raised her eyebrows as Jay went unbidden into the kitchen to find a glass of water. As he moved, Dahlia asked, "If you aren't into any of this stuff, why do you work here? I thought this job was all about the classics?"

"That's more my dad's field of expertise. I just work here because the pay is great. Plus, I mean, it's pretty cool. Traveling into novels. I mean, it would be cooler if I could jump into one of _my_ favorites and see Ash, but I guess it's still pretty cool." He took a swig of water. "Ah, that's better. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I forgot."

He moved over to his bag, which he had dropped inside the door, and rummaged through it. Pulling out something that looked a bit like a watch, he handed it to Dahlia.

"This is your transporter. This is the little baby I've been working on for months. It's perfect. It works so much better than the original, the one most of the employees use. Yours is stronger, and lighter. Just don't break it, cause I love it to bits. Better than any girlfriend."

Dahlia didn't comment on how sad his last statement sounded, and simply took the device in her hands, examining it. It looked a bit like a watch, but so much more intricate. "How does it work?" She asked.

"It's simple." He moved over next to her. "See this little hourglass shape. This is where the magic is. Don't ask me where they get it, cause no one'll tell me. Anyway, this right here is two buttons. This top one takes you into the book. I can program for you which one. And this one takes you home. I made it as simple as possible. It's waterproof and mostly fireproof, but don't go jumping into lava just to find out."

"Yeah, cause if I jump into lava the worst of my worries will be breaking my transporter. Sooo…" Dahlia glanced at her weird coworker. "Do you know where I'm going tomorrow?"

"Ever heard of Charles Dickens?"

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Who hasn't?"

"Well, you're heading into the French Revolution to find a book."

"You mean _A Tale of Two Cities_?" Dahlia's heard began to thump in her chest. This was really happening. She still didn't believe it.

"Yep, sounds like it. Oh, I'll give you the rule book. You have to follow these rules to a T, or Elat will kill both of us."

Dahlia took the small pamphlet he handed her into her palm. She opened it to the first page. She read the first number: _Never be seen_.

She glanced back up at Jay, who was pealing one of her bananas. "Why can't I be seen? And, above all that, why did Elat make me promise not to look at the object I'm sent for?"

Jay shrugged. "Don't know. I only know what I'm told. They say that it'll mess with the story. I mean, how is that possible; it's just a story. But rules are rules, and I don't plan on losing my job just to find out what it's like to break the rules."

Dahlia looked down at the rulebook. The second number said: _Don't open the object._

"You want to play Dark Souls?"

Dahlia glanced up. She had never been fond of video games, but then again she hadn't thought she would ever go to prison either. Sighing, she shrugged.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

"...one girl is more use than twenty boys." – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia wanted to curse. And possibly bash her fists into the wall. She currently sat in the brig, similar to the cell she had sat just the night before. Everything had gone wrong…again. She should have just transported out of there. Now, she had nothing. No scroll, no transporter, nothing.

Captain Smith had dragged her back to the ship, forcibly taken her bag and her transporter, and then threw her in the prison. At least this brig was a bit cleaner than the last.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn! Every swear word imaginable! My life sucks!"

"Who are you?"

Dahlia jumped, looking around. She was sure she had heard a small, female voice talking to her. Maybe she was really going crazy.

"Over here. Look in the cell next to you."

Dahlia turned to the cell, squinting her eyes to try to see. While this prison was better lit than the pirate ship, most of the cells were still in shadow because the torches burned only in the hallway. However, as the figure in the cell next to hers stepped closer, she could make out the girl pretty well.

The girl was Native American, with tanned skin, dark eyes, and two long braids dangling over her shoulders. By all accounts, she was lovely, a tiny girl standing tall. For her shortness, she didn't look any younger than Dahlia herself. Plus, she was the first female Dahlia had seen on the island.

"Hey," Dahlia said cautiously.

"Who are you?" The girl repeated, just as guarded.

"Dahlia. You?"

"I am Princess Tiger Lily, daughter of Great Big Little Panther, chief of the Piccaninny tribe."

Dahlia stared at the girl in shock. Wow. Yet again she felt in awe at meeting one of the original characters of the novel. She had always liked Tiger Lily more than Wendy anyway.

"How did you get here?" Dahlia asked.

"These barbarians attacked our village on the far side of the island yesterday, and kidnapped me. They think they can intimidate us. Well, my father will come rescue me!" She was very formal and pronounced in every word she spoke.

Dahlia crossed her arms. Maybe that explained why the Indians had tried to kill her and Callenback when they first came on the island. After all, they themselves had just gotten attacked.

"This Smith really is a jerk, isn't he?"

"What?"

Dahlia shook her head. "I mean, Smith seems even worse than Hook."

Tiger Lily nodded her head. "Perhaps. But how did he get here? How did you get here? I mean, no one new has come since everything happened."

"Everything? What exactly happened?"

"You don't know?"

"Like you said, I just got here. I'm completely in the dark. All I know is that Pan is getting weaker, Hook is coming to the island to find something, and British soldiers are invading Neverland. None of it is normal, but no one will tell me anything. All I know is it had to do with Patrick and Wendy."

Tiger Lily examined Dahlia's face intently. "Are you on our side?"

"Depends. Whose side would 'our' be?"

"Us, the Indians, the Lost Boys, Peter Pan."

"I didn't know the natives and Pan were on the same side," Dahlia commented absently to herself and then turned to look at Tiger Lily. "I like to think of myself as on my own side, but I guess I'm more on your side than Smith's or Hook's. So sure, I'm on your side."

Tiger Lily pulled over a tiny stool in her cell and sat next to the bars separating their cell. Dahlia copied her, and soon they sat facing each other. Hoping she would finally learn something useful, Dahlia leaned forward as the Indian princess started her story.

"It began eight years ago. Patrick wasn't just any lost boy; he was the closest to Peter. Peter trusted him with everything, even a certain secret. When Wendy came here, she fell in love with Peter. Peter, however, isn't the type to fall in love. Wendy quickly became hateful towards him because of his disinterest. So, when she left, she took two things. The first was Patrick, who fell in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her. The other is the reason that the island in growing older, and dying."

"What is that?"

"Peter's heart."

"What?" For some reason, Dahlia couldn't imagine Wendy tearing out Pan's heart. "You mean literally."

"With magic, of course. She conspired with his shadow, you see. That shadow is evil."

Dahlia shrugged. That shadow had broken her transporter, but he had also saved Pan and her from Smith. "Why would the shadow want to steal Pan's heart?"

"Because then he would be free. He wouldn't be tied to Peter anymore. The heart binds them together."

"So, Pan's missing heart is the reason for everything getting older."

"Time has unfrozen in Neverland. Soon, there will be nothing but dust and death. Things are getting worse. Earthquakes break out frequently, as do fires. Large waves berate the coasts. Many of the mermaids have already been killed upon the rocks by the vicious waves."

"Right. But I don't get one thing. Why is this happening just because Pan doesn't have his heart?"

"Neverland…this place is almost like a dream. Peter's dream. If his heart is at unrest, and unhappy, the dream will turn into a nightmare."

"So, how do we get back Pan's heart if Wendy took it to London with her?"

Tiger Lily shook her head. "That's just it, we can't. Before Patrick left, he started the fairy tree on fire. It killed many of the fairies, including Tinker Bell. Not that you know who she is. Anyway, the remaining fairies used most of their pixy dust to extinguish the fire and Peter helped them move their home up into the mountains. There wasn't enough dust left to go to London."

"Why would Patrick burn the fairies?"

"I think because of Tinker Bell. She tried to kill Wendy by getting one of the lost boys to shoot her with an arrow."

"I remember."

"What?"

Dahlia leaned back. Oops… "I mean…uh, never mind, go on."

"Patrick hated Tinker Bell. He swore to kill her after that."

"So, like all the other lost boys, he was psychotic." Dahlia paused. When Tiger Lily didn't continue, she asked a matter-a-fact question, "So, if we can't fix this unless we have Pan's heart and we can't get to Pan's heart, we're doomed, right?"

Tiger Lily bowed her head. "I fear so."

"Damnit!" Dahlia rose, kicking her stool over. She had wanted to fix everything, but now it seemed like she couldn't.

And yet…she paused. What did that fairy king say? She could save Neverland. She hadn't believed him because her transporter was only used for transporting, and yet that was exactly what they needed now. If she could get her transporter and get out of the book, maybe Jay could program her device so she would go to London. Then maybe she could find Pan's heart and get back to Neverland before everything was destroyed.

But, if she even figured out how to get out of here, how could she find Pan's heart in London? She had no idea where Wendy might have taken it. Plus, the moment she was back in the real world, she doubted her boss would let her go back in.

Dahlia paced the floor, clenching and unclenching her hands. There had to be a solution to this.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the stairs. Dahlia glanced over spot British soldiers entering the hallway. They headed over to Tiger Lily's cell, unlocking it. Tiger Lily backed up, pressing herself into the back wall of her cell. Ignoring her fear, the two men took ahold of her arms and began dragging her out.

"Wait, where are you taking her!" Dahlia demanded.

The sailors ignored her and dragged Tiger Lily away struggling.

Finally, everything was silent. Dahlia hit her hand against the bars of her cell.

Tiger Lily had answered some of her questions, but she had also given her more. Dahlia was partially happy she let herself be taken to the ship by Smith, because she wouldn't have learned what was going on from anyone else. On the other hand, now she had to figure out how to get out of here.

"Dahlia…"

A soft whisper came to her ear. Dahlia whirled, only to see emptiness around her. It was the same voice she had heard whisper to her in the forest right before the shadow had enveloped her and Pan, saving them from Smith.

To the emptiness, Dahlia stated, "You are Pan's shadow."

Nothing answered back. Maybe she was starting to go mad.

Slumping down on the bed, Dahlia curled in a ball. She was exhausted. She just wanted to shut her eyes for a moment. She closed her eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

"I suppose it's like the ticking crocodile, isn't it. Time is chasing after all of us." – J. M. Barrie

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Dahlia's eyes blinked open at the sound. What was happening? Her muscles felt sore, and her back ached. A dull pain seeped up her neck. It took her a moment to remember where she was.

She sat up, startled. She must have fallen asleep in the brig.

"Comfortable, Miss Wood?"

Looking out of her prison cell, she stared into the cold eyes of Captain Smith. She had no idea how long she had been asleep, but she had one question to ask this man.

"Where's Tiger Lily?"

"I don't think you should be worrying about her, considering the situation _you're_ in now."

"Go to hell."

"Ohh, I don't think Maxwell would like you using language like that."

"Who's Maxwell?"

"Oh, I forgot, he uses another name now. Let's see, was it...Fairy Tale."

Dahlia froze. He could not be talking about Mr. Yriaf, could he? No, it wasn't possible.

"No, that's not it. Ah, Elat Yriaf."

She stared in wonder at the man before her. "You're…you're from the real world."

"So are you, you're just really bad at fitting in."

"I don't understand. How is this possible?"

"What, you think LEA is the only organization going into books? Don't be daft, sweetheart. You really are just a pawn, aren't you? You think Yriaf is so righteous in his quest? He wants power, same as me. Why do you think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone in these books?"

"How do you know that?"

He ignored her question. "He doesn't want you to find out the truth."

Alright, this was getting crazy. But right now, she was surprised to admit, she didn't care about LEA or Smith. She was more concerned about the island. "Okay, dude, look, I don't care what Yriaf's plan is. I never did. If he wants to take over the world, I couldn't care less. Humanity's done nothing but destroy my life. So, yeah, sorry, don't play the 'convince the enemy to become your alley ploy.' I don't care. And while we're at it, how did you fly from London to here?"

"Easy, I have a transporter too. You know, at first I wasn't sure where you were from. I don't see how I thought you were from here, though, considering your clothes. But, once I saw that transporter, I knew."

"Where is it?"

"In my cabin, where you will never find it."

"Really? Then what are you going to do with me?"

"Well, I was going to kill you until a few minutes ago, but then I realized you aren't as weak as you appear."

"And you're not as powerful as you think you are."

"Why don't you tell me where you put whatever Maxwell sent you to get."

Dahlia rose, crossing her arms. "You took it. It was the scroll."

"Don't kid me. That scroll was blank."

The scroll was blank. What? Why did Mr. Yriaf send her for a blank scroll?

"I wouldn't know," Dahlia stated simply. "I never looked at it. You seem well acquainted with our rules, so you should know I'm not allowed to look at it."

"Oh, come on, you didn't even bother one glance?"

"No, I didn't. Look, I don't know anything, so you might as well stop questioning me."

Captain Smith leaned against the bars. "Come, Miss Wood. You don't expect me to believe that. I'm not stupid, and I don't think you are either, even if you act like it."

"I never said I wasn't smart. I just choose to ignore certain things. Frankly, I'm not a hero type or a villain. I'm the type who believes that survival is enough. I don't want to have to worry about things I can't change. So yes, Smith, if that is your real name which I doubt, I'm not stupid."

The two stood there watching each other for a moment, silently waging a battle of glares.

Finally, Dahlia asked, "What is it _you_ want on this island?"

"What so many people have tried to possess and failed. Immortality."

Dahlia let out a laugh. "Seriously? You're kidding, right? That's what it comes down to? You want to live forever? Why?"

"I don't need to justify my motivations to you, Miss Wood. Right now, you aren't in a position to stop me. Now, obviously you don't know anything else, so excuse me. I have other things to do."

As he turned away, she demanded. "But what are you looking for in Neverland? Pan's lost his immortality."

"Precisely. And I'm going to find it."

"But Pan's heart is the key, and it's in London."

Captain Smith snorted. "So, you do know something. That Indian brat probably told you. But you're wrong. I have spent the last two years hunting it down all over England, only to find Wendy's diary herself. Turns out, she never took it out of Neverland to begin with. She hid it here. Right under Peter Pan's nose."

Dahlia felt her heart begin to thump. This meant she didn't have to figure out how to get to London. The heart was here; she just had to get it before Smith got to it.

She wondered how much he knew.

"So," she started, "Where is it?"

"If I knew where it was, I wouldn't be tramping around the forest, now would I?" Smith commented dryly.

"Look, no offense—well, actually, yes, offense—, but if Pan and the Indians haven't found it in eight years, what makes you think you'll find it either?"

"I have a secret weapon."

"What is that?"

"You."

"I thought you just said I was a stupid girl who knew nothing. What makes you think I would be able to help you?"

Smith snorted. "Because there is only one thing that knows where that boy's heart is. And that's his shadow."

Dahlia narrowed her eyes. "So? Even if that is the case, why would that make me your secret weapon?"

"When that shadow saved you and Peter, I assumed it was for that boy's sake. But now I don't think so. I just spotted the shadow a couple hours ago near the boat. I think it was looking for you. Meaning it has some sort of connection to you. Which gives it a reason to help me."

Dahlia snorted. "Now you _are_ pulling at straws, captain. Just because he helped me once does not mean he would help you find Pan's heart just because you are holding me hostage."

"We'll see."

"Captain, Captain!" Loud shouts came for above them, and the sound of hurrying feet padded on the deck above.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded from outside and the ship shook.

"Bloody hell, what was that." Captain Smith turned his attention away from Dahlia.

A soldier came running down the stairs. "Captain, captain! We are under attack!"

"Attack?" Smith questioned. "From who?"

"Pirates, captain." The soldier turned and ran back up the stairs.

"Damn, it must be Hook." Smith glanced back at Dahlia. "Stay here."

"As if I could leave," Dahlia commented dryly as he turned and disappeared up the stairs.

Dahlia walked over to the bars, leaning against them. In one way, this could be good. If the two villains were fighting, it might give Dahlia a chance to escape. However, on the other hand, being caught in between two ruthless captains might seal her death sentence. And she didn't even have her transporter to save her.

From above, she heard the sound of cannon fire as the ship shook again, forcing her to grab ahold of the prison bars to keep herself upright. If this continued, the boat would surely start to fall to pieces. She just hoped she wasn't on it when it did.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

"If you cannot teach me to fly, teach me to sing." – J. M. Barrie

The ship shook again, throwing Dahlia back against her cot. She had to get out of here before she ended up dead.

Scrambling back to her feet, Dahlia hurried over to the sturdy door. It looked well-made, unlike the pirate's, and she doubted leverage would break this one. She didn't have anything to pick it either. Rummaging her brain for a solution, Dahlia heard muffled shouts and gunfire coming from the deck. This was getting worse by the minute.

A force hit the boat. This time, it didn't feel like a cannon. It hit the ship with such strength that she was knocked to the ground, hitting her arm. A sharp pain explored up to her shoulder, and she yipped in agony. Before she could ascertain if her arm was alright, she felt water surrounding her.

Dahlia glanced around in panic, spotting several holes already breaking into the ship's hull. Water seeped in slowly onto the floor. If she didn't get out soon, she would drown in this brig.

She climbed to her feet, this time painfully. Hitting the bars with her hand, she shouted for help. Though she doubted anyone would bother to help her, she might as well try. No one came down the stairs. Then again, no one could probably even hear her, considering the booming sounds of gunshots above deck.

In moments, the water was up to her knees and rising quickly. She headed over to the holes in the boat, hoping she might be able to swim out into the water, but they were too small to even get her arm though, much less her entire body. And the process only got her drenched for her trouble.

"Dahlia!"

Dahlia turned to spot Nicholas Callenback running down the stairs. When he had left her, she had seen him being restrained by soldiers. He looked even worse now. A stubble was beginning to come in on his chin, his hair was tangled and clung to his cheeks, and his shirt was lined with cuts. In his right hand he held a long, thin sword.

"Nick!" Dahlia exclaimed, moving quickly over to the bars. "What are you doing here?"

"Here to save you, of course." He hurried over to the bars, pulling something out of his belt—or a bag he had on his belt, though she couldn't see well. It took her a moment to realize it was a key. Frantically, he shoved it into the lock and turned the key. Something clicked, and the cell door fell open. Dahlia practically flew out of the cell and into the hallway.

"We've got to get out of here!" Dahlia had to shout to be heard because of the din of water and gunfire.

Callenback merely nodded and followed her as they waded through the rising water to the stairs. By the time they climbed the stairs, Callenback was just as drenched as Dahlia was. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her arm, Dahlia scampered up the stairs and into the second story.

Once they were up above, the din from the deck—now directly above them—was deafening. This level, like the level below, was deserted.

Dahlia turned and grabbed ahold of Callenback's arm. Again, she had to shout. "Nick, do you know where the captain's quarters are?"

He shook his head in a panic. "What are you talking about? We have to get out of here. The pirate ship hit ours and we are going down."

"I assumed. That's why I'm hurrying. Where is it?"

Callenback grabbed ahold of her arms, trying to pull. "It's at the end of the hall, but we have no time."

"Then I'll make time." Dahlia tried to wrench herself out of Callenback's grip, but his hold only tightened.

"Did you hear me, Dahlia? We have to get out of here or we die."

Dahlia twisted his arm, making him gasp sharply in pain and let her go. "You get off. I'll be fine, okay?"

Without waiting for his response, she turned and sprinted down the hallway. At least, she tried to sprint, but the dangerously rocking boat prevented her from doing anything but stumble along the tight passage. She didn't even bother to look back to see if Callenback was following her, but she didn't hear him so she assumed he had listened to her and gotten off the boat.

Finally, she reached the last door and burst in. The captain's cabin was in shambles. Everything on the tables had flown to the floor, probably with the force of the pirate ship hitting the hull. Dahlia frantically searched around. She had to find her transporter and the scroll and get out of here.

Finally, her eyes spotted her bag lying on the floor in the corner. Scrambling over, she grabbed it and yanked it open. Her cellphone, flashlight, and the scroll were in there, but not her transporter.

"Damn!" She voiced out loud, thrusting the bag strap over her head. With her bag now secured, she continued her search. She had to find her transporter.

"Looking for this?"

She glanced up.

Captain Smith stood in the doorway, dangling her transporter in his fingers.

Shakily, Dahlia rose to her feet.

"You thought I would be too distracted to notice you escaping, didn't you?" His smirk was dark.

Dahlia crossed her arms. "Yeah, especially since your men are up there dying for your stupid plot."

"Why would I care who dies? Millions have died in the pursuit of immortality. What are thirty more?"

"You are a cold-hearted bastard, aren't you?"

Smirk snorted. "Aren't you? You're the one who is trying to get your transporter so you can abandon this island."

"What makes you think I'm abandoning it?" Dahlia glanced around for a weapon. Everything was such a mess, she couldn't see anything useful in the rubble. She just didn't want to have to keep him talking for long, or this boat was going to sink with both of them on it. "Even if I do use the transporter to get back to the real world, what makes you think I won't come right back."

"Because this isn't your fight, and you know it."

"Who says? What if I was a descendant of Wendy and Patrick?"

Dahlia didn't know for sure she was—what was a last name anyway—, but she wanted to distract Smith. Luckily, it worked.

Captain Smith looked shocked, his hand freezing midair. "What did you say?"

"My real name, before joining LEA, was Dahlia Getz."

Smith's eyes widened. "But that's…"

"Patrick's last name, yes. Do you really think that is a coincidence?"

Smith stared at her, squinting his eyes. Maybe he was finally noticing the resemblance she bore with Wendy. A semblance that Pan had noticed as well.

Finally, he snorted. "It all makes sense. That's why the shadow is protecting you. That's why Maxwell hired you. He must have known."

Dahlia stopped herself from rolling her eyes. This guy just loved conspiracy theories, didn't he? The idea that everything fit into place perfectly was nonsense. This was real life, not fiction. Life didn't fall into place perfectly like that. But she didn't tell Smith that.

Smith turned back to look at her. "Then it's perfect. Let's see if I'm right." He shoved the transporter into his pocket and pulled out his sword. "Let's see if the shadow will save you now."

Dahlia took a step back.

Smith lunged at her.

However, he didn't know she had a black belt. Dahlia shifted to the side, the sword missing her heart by inches. Grabbing Smith's arm before he could steady himself, she kicked his leg, causing him to fall on his face. Jumping away from him, she moved towards the door. Yes, she wanted to get her transporter, but she was no expert pickpocket and she did not like the idea of a sword through her chest.

She could hear him grunting as he rose, but she didn't wait and see as she sprinted out of the cabin and towards the deck.

Climbing the stairs, she came out into the sunshine. Well, the cloudy sunshine. She blinked in the bright light. It must have been mid-morning by now. She glanced around the deck. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Everyone left alive was fighting. It appeared the pirates had somehow boarded the ship and now the fighting had taken to swords and flint guns, not cannons.

Dahlia hurried towards the edge of the boat, only to find someone in her way. Dahlia froze, staring into the dark eyes of Captain James Hook. From behind her, she heard Smith reach the deck and move towards her.

Hook's eyes glanced over her shoulder as he drew his sword. "Well, well, look who we have here. Both my escaped prisoner and the man who thinks he can intrude into Neverland. Perfect."

Dahlia glanced back and forth from the two men who pointed swords at her. She took a deep breath.

Smith shook his head, whispering under his breath, "Bloody pirates." He raised his voice. "You're the man who thinks he can capture my boat."

Hook's sword waved at Dahlia. "You have my prisoner."

" _My_ prisoner, you mean," Smith counted.

"Boys, no need to fight over me." Dahlia tone was sarcastic.

A shadow fell over her.

Silently, a figure dropped down beside her, causing Dahlia to jump. The figure raised a sword to the two captains, and commented dryly, "Now, now, my dear captains. Manners."

Dahlia's eyebrows rose as Peter Pan turned to give her a sly smile. He looked even sicker than when she had seen him in the caves, but there was still a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Pan turned back to the captains. "Also, this girl…is mine."

He threw out his empty arm, pushing Dahlia away as the captains lunged at him.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

"I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg."– J. M. Barrie

Dahlia fell backwards, landing on her sore arm and gasping in pain. The hard, wooden deck of the ship was hardly a feather bed. Trying to ignore the pain, she glanced up at the battle that waged before her.

In the original Peter Pan, she recalled, Pan was considered to be an exceptional swordfighter. However, the movies she had seen really hadn't done him justice. This Pan—it felt weird to call him the real Peter Pan—was incredibly quick. Not only did he parry any blow in an instance, but he moved with swift precision to fight the two captains, both of which were several inches taller than him. Dahlia only watched for a few seconds, but Pan's velocity made the other two men look like they were moving in slow motion.

Before she could decide what she should do, hands grabbed her from behind and started pulling her up. Swiftly, Dahlia grabbed one of the hands and used all her strength to yank her attacker over her shoulder. Nicholas Callenback when sprawling on the deck before her.

Dahlia scrambled up, trying to look repentant. "Oops, sorry." Offering her hand that wasn't connected to her throbbing arm, she pulled him up. "In my defense, you did grab me."

Callenback pushed her back, away from the fighting. "Dahlia, are you alright?"

She rolled her eyes. "Would you stop asking me that? We have a lot more to worry about then if I'm alright. Like what are we going to do about the fighting? And how was Pan able to fly?"

Nick shook his head promptly. "He didn't. I saw him climb the rigging earlier. He just dropped down at the right moment."

Dahlia glanced back at the fight. Despite Pan's skill, it didn't look like he could handle two expert swordsmen for long. Seriously, who would have thought Captain Smith would actually be able to handle a sword. If fact, it looked as if Pan was getting a bit slower. He must be getting weaker.

She took a step around Callenback. "We need to help him."

Callenback grabbed her arm, yelling fiercely in her ear. "Have you gone mad? That's Peter Pan! He's one of the villains. We have to get out of here. Leave him to die. Who cares?"

Dahlia wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "You do know that boy is the only chance of keeping this island alive. And, unless you have some magic dust to get us home, we are stuck here. So, if you can get this fact through your thick head, that boy is the only way we are surviving. Got it?"

"Dahlia, I'm trying to protect you. I care about you."

"Well, stop it. Because everyone who has ever cared about me has left me. So just leave early and save yourself a ton of heartache."

Dahlia left him standing there. She quickly glanced around for a weapon. Thanks to the many bodies strewn around, it didn't take her long to find a sword. Unfortunately, she had never held a sword in her life, so she opted for the board she discovered conveniently broken next to one of the bodies. Picking it up, she hurried towards the men.

As she reached them, however, two things changed. First, Captain Hook's sword nicked Pan's cheek before he could dodge fast enough, and, second, Captain Smith took a moment to leave the age-old enemies to fight and looked around.

Dahlia didn't pause. Instead, she swore the board high. In an instant, it connected with Captain Smith's head. He dropped like a large potato. However, it didn't knock him out, but it did send his sword flying across the ship. Clutching his head in his hands, Captain Smith struggled to his feet. Dahlia didn't let him get up before she brought the board down towards his head. He got lucky, tripping and missing the board by inches.

The boat began to sway dangerous, almost knocking Dahlia off balance. Steadying herself, she looked up just in time to see Captain Smith jump at her. Everything started to move in slow motion. He knocked her back on the ground, and she landed fully on her arm. She felt the bone crack. He was on top of her. His weight was tremendous. She could barely breathe.

Slowly, he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed. Dahlia grasped for air, clawing at his hands.

Why was this scene so familiar?

She could even smell the scent of the blood in the air. This was not supposed to happen again. Not after…

Suddenly, a loud cry sounded from behind her. Smith's hands loosened slightly as he looked up, just in time to see a sword pressed against his neck.

Dahlia's vision swam in and out of focus. Whether it was because of the pain she felt in her arm or that his strangling had damaged her throat, she wasn't sure.

She felt Smith get off her slowly, moving away. Then she felt arms lifting her up. More than one set of arms.

A large crash rattled the air, and shook the boat. Shouts, voices, the swaying of the boat. It felt as if she was being handed down. Finally, she felt herself on the bottom of a curved boat, two hands holding her up in a sitting position.

Clearly, a voice said above her in a soft whisper, "Lia."

Dahlia tried to focus her eyes as she grasped for breath. She recognized the voice. "Pan." Her attempt at talking came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Why didn't you leave?" Pan sounded intense; she didn't even need to see his face properly to tell that.

"Peter, we've got to get to the island," a male voice called somewhere to her right. It sounded young. Perhaps one of the Lost Boys. They had come too?

"Give me a minute," Pan stated sharply. His next words were softer. "Bloody hell, woman, what trouble you are to me."

Dahlia blinked, looking up into his blurry face. Everything was becoming clearer as her brain began to get the oxygen it so dearly craved. As she vision cleared, she noticed the cut on his cheek. Reaching up with her useful hand, she brushed some of the blood away.

Pan didn't move away. Instead, he reached down and stroked her hair. Leaning down, she was astounded as he gently kissed her forehead. "Stay awake, Lia. It's going to be fine."

What was he talking about? She felt fine. Maybe a little sore, but…

Dahlia couldn't feel her arm. Worst of all, the strangling had left her feeling extremely disorientated. She hardly knew what was up and what was down. A wave of nausea made her feel sick.

"Where are we?" She murmured.

"In a small boat we stole from Hook. We'll be back on the island soon."

She was beginning to feel chilled and dizzy. What was happening?

"We need to find your heart, Pan."

Peter Pan stayed silent. Then he asked, "How do you know?"

Dahlia used her last bit of strength to grab ahold of his arm. "Pan, it's not in London. It's here, on the island. Your shadow knows where it is. That's what Smith is trying to find. He wants eternal life. He…"

Everything went black as a sharp pain in her head closed her consciousness.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

"Odd things happen to all of us on our way through life without our noticing." – J. M. Barrie

One week ago…

"Jay, I can't get this thing to work." Dahlia whacked the transporter in her hand and it vibrated softly in defiance.

"Well, maybe if you stopped hitting it, it would like you more."

"It's an inanimate object. It doesn't have feelings."

Jay moved over to where Dahlia perched on a bench in the corner of his dungeon office—well, it was in the basement—and wrenched the device out of her hand. He patted it softly, whispering to it, "Don't worry, she doesn't mean it."

Moving over to his worktable, he sat down and began fiddling with the transporter.

Dahlia rose from her perch and sauntered towards him, crossing her arms. "Dude, you have issues. I could have died."

"You're being dramatic."

She rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say. You weren't the one being chased by Grendel and your transporter wouldn't work. Seriously, that's the second time it's acted up this month. The first time, I didn't feel very threatened by Beth March's cats. However, a big, hairy monster with long claws is a totally different bucket of onions."

"Onions? I don't think the saying goes like that."

"Well, onions make you cry, and so does being chased by an eight-foot monster. You should try it some time."

"I would, but I think he'd catch me. I have pretty short legs, you know."

Dahlia let out a laugh. "You're five-five, dude. I'm only two inches taller than you. It's not as if I'd go much faster than you. So don't give me excuses."

Jay glanced back at her briefly from his work to stick out his tongue. Dahlia returned the gesture.

Moving over to his worktable, Dahlia leaned over his shoulder. Jay had delicately taken apart the device and was examining it with thin utensils through a thick magnifying glass.

"Do you see the problem?" Dahlia asked.

Jay shook his head slowly. "Everything's in place. It should be working. I don't get it. I just cleaned it last week. Everything's working fine. The only thing it might be is the dust."

Dahlia leaned closer as Jay pointed to the tiny cylinder in which held the only thing Jay didn't know inside out—the magic powering the device.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Dahlia and Jay looked up in unison, as Mr. Yriaf moved silently down the metal basement hallway towards them, his cane guiding his steps as always.

Jay was the first to answer his boss's question. "Dahlia's transporter has been acting up recently, but I checked it and it looks like it's working fine. I can only figure that it must be the dust."

Yriaf nodded slowly and moved over to them. "Give me the cylinder and I will replace it for you."

"Or you could show me how to do it," Jay offered hopefully.

Dahlia knew how anxious Jay was to figure out the dust. It was the only thing he couldn't understand about his devices. He often vocalized in frustration and annoyance that he was in the dark about something that he worked with every day.

"That won't be necessary," Yriaf voice calmly, taking the tiny cylinder in which the dust was stored and slipping it into his pocket gently. Then he turned to Dahlia. "I hope the mission went well?"

Dahlia nodded. "I found the parchment paper you sent me to get. It was in Grendel's lair, just like you said. Unfortunately, unlike what you said, he came back while I was there and I had to run for my life, since me transporter malfunctioned. It was lucky I'm pretty quick, or he would have seen me. Still, I could have had a heart attack."

Yriaf smiled lightly. "Then it is good that you are back. Take a break and get ready for the next mission."

Dahlia's ears perked. "So soon? I just got back. Usually I have at least a week between missions."

"We don't have that luxury. I need you to get a scroll."

"What's the hurry?"

"You don't need to know."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Fine, what's the setting?"

Yriaf pursed his lips. "Neverland." Turning, he departed the room, his shiny boots clipping on the metal floor.

Dahlia felt her heartbeat quicken. Neverland? Was this really happening? She had grown up loving Neverland. In her tiny bedroom overlooking a busy New York street, she had created a tent and called it her Home Underground. Neverland had been her life as a child. She had dreamed every night that Peter Pan would come into her room and carry her away to have adventures in a dream world. And yet it had never happened.

"Don't get too excited," Jay commented, as if reading her thoughts. "You know the rules. You get in and out."

She nodded. "I know. But still, to actually be there."

"You must have been really obsessed with it as a kid."

Dahlia laughed. "You have no idea. When I was five, my mom gave me that book for my birthday. I couldn't read it, but I'd look at the pictures and I fell in love. I learned how to read because of that book. By the time I went to first grade, I was ahead of everyone in my class because I could read. Jay, that book got me through everything."

She paused. "Actually, no…Peter Pan got me through everything. He saved me."

"You know, Peter Pan isn't real."

"What is real then?" Dahlia's voice rose slightly, more in frustration than anger. "I go into books—books that are supposed to be fiction—and I see things straight out of stories. They aren't supposed to be real, and yet I can touch them. I can smell them. I can hear them. If they aren't real, is this all in my head? Am I still sitting back in a prison cell right now for murders I didn't commit?"

That rendered Jay silent. He rose slowly and moved over to her, poking her arm. He grinned up at her. "I don't know, you feel pretty real. Anyway, if this life is all a dream, maybe I don't mind dreaming as long as I can dream with you."

Dahlia smiled soberly. She wrapped her arms around her friend and gave him a tight hug.

"Also," Jay said into her ear. "If you weren't here, who would I have to challenge to Rocket League?"

She let him go, whacking his arm. "Wow, way to ruin a perfectly touching scene!"

Jay laughed, and then his grin vanished. "But seriously, I will destroy you."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Sure, sure. I outran a mythical creature in the most famous epic poem of all time. I think I can defeat you in a mere video game."

"Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. I'm going to go check the coordinates of Neverland."

Jay left, leaving Dahlia to her thoughts. Heading up to her apartment, she collapsed on her couch the moment she arrived.

She glanced at her bookshelf, filled with every book she had ever traveled into and dozens more she hadn't. Her eyes fell on the book she was looking for immediately. Pushing herself off the couch, she walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out _Peter and Wendy_. It was her original copy she'd received from her mother. It was one of the few things she had been able to take into the prison. She had been willing to give up all her books, but not this one.

Dahlia caressed the binding and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of old book. Flipping through the pages, she found the picture she wanted. It showed a little boy perched on a rock, overlooking the ocean. That boy was Peter Pan. He could not have been more than ten.

It felt as if her childhood self was screaming at her to be on that rock with him. To be free. To not have to worry about her pass or her future. But then again, she wanted to grow up…she just didn't want to be in NYC when she did it.

She shook her head. She was not a child anymore, and she was not going to live in Neverland. She had a mission to do. And soon, she would end her contract and be free to start a new life where she had never heard of LEA. Soon, it would be all over.

Placing the book back on the shelf, she turned and headed to take a shower.


	19. Chapter 19

19.

"Dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it." – J. M. Barrie

" _My little princess, many dangers you will face_

" _Evil will break your soul like a shattered vase._

" _People will be cruel and tear at your heart_

" _But remember your fears are all for naught._

" _For I will be there holding your hand_

" _As we fly high above this magical land._

" _Never leave my side_

" _Unless I have died."_

The song played over and over in Dahlia's head, a haunting lullaby pervading the darkness inside her head. Everything was black, black as death. And yet…that song. Why did it sound so familiar? She knew her mother had never sung it to her; she had been far too busy with work and her latest boyfriend to sing lullabies to her daughter. And yet, it was a female's voice who purred in her head, so soft she could only just hear it.

Everything seemed so peaceful, so calm. Dahlia had never felt this calm in her life. She felt completely relaxed. Suddenly, the woman was softly calling to her.

"Lia, my little baby…where are you?"

That was a good question. Dahlia felt truly conscious, and yet she knew this must be a dream. She could see nothing, only cold blackness all around her.

"Who are you?" When Dahlia voiced those words, they echoed and faded into the emptiness. Yes, this had to be a dream.

The answer came very softly. "Lia…find me."

"Find you? Where are you?" Dahlia couldn't move, she realized. Her arms seemed forced to her side. Was she standing, or was she lying down? She couldn't tell.

"It is so hot here. So hot. My darling little girl, I can feel you. You are so close. I can almost reach out and touch you."

"Hot?" Was this lady in hell? And she was close. Dahlia felt cold. Wait, did that mean that she was also… "Does that mean I'm in hell?"

"No, my little one. It is not your time."

"Why am I close to you then?"

"I can see what you search for."

"And what is that?" Dahlia asked.

"A beating heart. The heart of a child. It is so fragile, so soft. It will break easily."

Was she talking about Pan's heart? "Whose heart is it?"

"A boy who is growing up."

Dahlia's own heart started to pound. Did that mean this dream spirit knew where to find Pan's heart?

"Where is his heart?" She asked the darkness. Her head began to throb.

"Find me, Lia, find me."

"How can I find you if I don't know where you are?"

No answer came to her question.

Dahlia's arm started to sting. What was happening? Why was every muscle in her body starting to hurt?

Everything was so black…so utterly black.

Tweet!

Dahlia groggily became aware of the sound of birds. Birds? In New York City? She never heard birds. Only cars whizzing by. But then she remembered she wasn't in NYC anymore.

She finally felt able to move, opening her eyes slowly. Her vision, blurry at first, came slowly into focus. Staring above her, all she could see was the hard bark of a tree. Where was she?

Dahlia sat straight up, regretting it immediately as her head swam. Nausea came over her and she lay back down. Her hand moved up to her head, only to find a bandage wrapped around her forehead. Her braid seemed to have come out and now her hair was tangled and loose. She glanced down at herself. Her left arm was wrapped against her chest, preventing her from moving it. She glanced around. It appeared she was inside some sort of room—or a tree, she wasn't sure. The bed she lay on was soft with sheets that appeared to have been sewn together using leaves. The mattress seemed similarly sewn and stuffed with feathers.

"Where the hell am I?"

This appeared to be a comfortable, tiny bedroom inside of a tree.

It didn't seem to have any windows, but directly in front of her seemed to be some sort of bark door.

Moving carefully, she rolled off the bed and slowly crawled towards the door. Crawling helped with her spinning head and she doubted she could have walked there. After what seemed like an hour, she reached the door and attempted to open it.

The moment her hand was going for the doorknob, however, the knob twisted and the door swung open, hitting Dahlia in the face.

"Ow!" She exclaimed, falling back on the floor and holding her face with her good hand.

Curly, blond hair emerged from around the doorway, and a boy entered. Seeing Dahlia's predicament, he moved over to her.

"Oops," he said in a high-pitched British accent, not looking very repentant. "You're awake. Well, come on. Get back on the bed because I surely can't carry you."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dahlia wasn't willing to forgive so easily, mostly because her nose was throbbing. She was lucky it wasn't bleeding. "Don't you knock?"

The boy shrugged, offering her a hand. "I do, usually, but you were unconscious. How was I to know you'd wake up?"

"You could have checked." Dahlia ignored the hand and crawled over to the bed on her own, pulling herself up and perching on the edge. "Who are you? And where am I?"

"Doctor Willy, not-so-much at your service. And you are in the Lost Boys' hideout."

Lost Boys? Dahlia closed her eyes. The last thing she remembered was being on the boat. Pan was there and then she lost consciousness. Her hand went back up to her head.

"What happened to me?"

"Well, let's see. You had a pretty bad concussion, broken arm in two places, your head was bleeding badly, and you had tons of cuts and bruises. So yeah, you were banged up."

"And you're the doctor? What are you: twelve?"

"Fifteen, actually."

"Great, a kid is playacting as my doctor."

The boy crossed his arms. "Seriously, I don't know why you're making such a fuss. With how lucky you are, you should be thanking me for taking care of you for two weeks."

Dahlia's eyes shot up. "What did you say? Two weeks? I've been unconscious for two weeks."

"Hm. Yep, just about. Peter said it was important to help with your wounds. You've recovered pretty quickly, actually. I thought it would be at least a month."

Dahlia shook her head in disbelief. Two weeks? Plus the two days she was conscious. That meant she had been here for sixteen days. Why hadn't Yriaf sent someone to find her by now? She looked back at Doctor Willy.

"So, you're one of the lost boys?"

"Indeed I am."

"Strange, you don't seem like a psychopath."

Willy let out a laugh. "You must have met Jack."

"Yeah, seriously, is he like Jack the Ripper or something?"

"Who?"

Dahlia shook her head. "Sorry, wrong reality."

She tried to focus. That dream…that woman's voice, where had she heard it before. And it spoke of Pan's heart.

"Willy, where's Pan?"

The Lost Boy shrugged. "Don't know, somewhere. Why?"

"How is his condition? I mean, you're a doctor, so you should know."

Before Willy could answer, a voice behind him said sternly, "I'm fine."

Both Dahlia and Willy turned towards the door, to see Peter Pan standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

"Willy," Pan continued, "Leave us for a moment, would you?"

Willy shrugged calmly, waved goodbye playfully to Dahlia, and sauntered out the door. Pan closed it behind him. Then he turned to Dahlia.

"Are you feeling better?"

Dahlia crossed her arms. "I could ask you the same thing." In the shadows of the room, she couldn't tell how sick he looked.

"Like I said, I'm fine."

"Great, then I don't have to worry."

"Why are you still on the island? I gave you the pixy dust."

"Yeah, and the moment I got out of the cave Smith snatched me and took the transporter from me. So sorry."

Pan seemed angry, Dahlia finally noticed. "Stop playing the victim. You could have just used that device and left immediately. And yet you didn't. Why?"

He was right. Dahlia knew that. She had realized it at the time, but she was just trying to make excuses now.

"I can help."

"Help? Lia, what did you mean about my heart being on the island."

"You mean Smith hasn't found it yet?"

"No, he's trampling across the island, destroying everything in his path, but no, he hasn't found it...yet."

Dahlia bit her lip. Now, it was time for the battle of wits to begin. And who would reach the heart first, she wondered? She turned to Pan.

"Pan, you need to listen to me very carefully."

Then she started Smith's story.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

"Why, she is only a girl…That…is why we are her servants." – J. M. Barrie

"Thus, if Smith gets your heart, Neverland is pretty much a goner."

Pan rose from his perch on the edge of the bed. For the last two hours, Dahlia had been telling her story. She didn't leave anything out, even the part about this being a different world than hers. She neglected to mention, however, that Peter Pan was merely a fictional book in her world. But everything else she included: her job, her boss, and the connection between Smith and Yriaf. Everything she had found out on the island. It felt as if Pan had a right to know: this was his island, after all.

He began pacing across the room, stroking his chin gently with his hand. His mouth, pursed in concentration, was silent.

Dahlia crossed her arms. Her head's pain was now a dull ache. "So what do we do now? Do we take out Smith and his men, or do we find the heart?"

Pan glanced at her, his eyebrows rising slowly. "Take them out? Your turn of phrase is so refreshing, Lia. And what do you plan to do to 'take them out?' "

Rolling her eyes, Dahlia gestured around dramatically. "Well, I remember watching Home Alone as a kid. You wouldn't have heard of it, but it's about this kid who's home alone when these thieves try to break into his house. For the entire movie he sets up traps and does crazy stuff to get rid of them. What if we did something like that? I mean to slow Smith down. The quicker he searches the island, the less time we have. And, if we have more time, we have a chance of finding your heart."

Pan shook his head. "What about you? You mentioned your boss…won't he come to rescue you?"

Dahlia turned away from him, closing her eyes. This time, like when she was young, she was on her own. Opening her eyes, she shook her head firmly. "No, I don't think so. If he was going to come, he would have come already. Whether he can't get through or he's really abandoned me, I don't know, but I'm going to fix things. Because the reason all this shit is going on is because people from my world keep messing with it. I don't know if I'm related to Wendy or not, but something is going on and I'm having dreams about strange things. Right now, I don't want to run. I've run from my fears all my life, and I want to figure out what's going on. Does that make sense?"

"No, I like running."

Dahlia climbed off the bed, moving over to Pan. She looked into his green eyes, his youthful freckled face. She reached up her hand and touched his arm. "Peter, you're just a boy. You haven't lived yet. You've been here on your perfect little island all your life. Yes, maybe you've lost your heart, but you've been stuck in this bubble of an island for so long that you don't know how much more there is to the world."

Pan glanced down at her hand on his arm, and then back up at her. He took a step closer. "Then teach me, Lia."

His proximity made her uncomfortable. Her heart started beating. This wasn't right…she was not having any feelings for this kid. He was just a child. She shook her head. "Stop calling me Lia."

"Why?"

"I just don't like it."

"Why?"

"Really, it's none of your business." Dahlia pushed past him and headed for the door, talking while she did, "Anyway, we need to come up with some good plans. Ways to play on Smith's and his men's fears. We need traps, scares, anything. You know the island better than I do, so—ah!"

After Dahlia pulled open the door, she took two large steps outside, and found her foot landing in empty air. Apparently, there wasn't a landing outside the door, just a drop down of about thirty feet. Dahlia felt herself falling forward, and grabbing out for branches around her didn't help.

In an instant, arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up. Twisting around, she found Pan holding her tightly in his arms. Dahlia's breath froze in her chest.

"Don't you know not to step outside of a door without knowing what's on the other side?" Pan's whispered breath tickled her face.

Dahlia pushed him away, steadying herself and looking down. Her world swam a bit. She wasn't really afraid of heights, but looking straight down through the branches to the earth far below her was a bit disconcerting.

"Peter!" A voice came from above them, and in an instant a boy swung down from a branch and alighted on the thin landing outside the door.

This boy, who looked to be about thirteen, glanced up curiously at Dahlia. He was short, even for his age, with a pointed nose and squinting eyes. His pitch black hair struck straight up in harsh spikes. "Yo, you're the girl, right?"

He glanced at Pan. "Is her face usually that red?"

Dahlia's hands went up to her cheeks, realizing she was blushing. Strange, she usually didn't blush, even when she was embarrassed.

Pan didn't mention it and turned to the boy. "What happened, Tip?"

The boy stood up straight and gave Pan a military salute. "Sir, Private Tip reporting."

Dahlia smiled. Okay, she wasn't that fond of kids, but this kid was really adorable.

Tip continued. "I followed the evil captain, like you said. He's digging in Tiki Forest currently. You know, those pirates act like a bunch of bumbling bears."

Pan nodded. "Good work, Tip. Keep it up. What about Hook?"

"Still moored near the base of Neverpeak Mountain."

Dahlia interrupted. "What about Smith's ship?"

Tip grinned. "Went down blazen' in glory, it did." Saluting Pan then Dahlia, he turned and climbed like a monkey out of sight.

Watching his quick agility, Dahlia shook her head. "Your Lost Boys are pretty talented, I'll give them that." She turned to Pan. "But what did he mean about Smith's ship?"

Pan shrugged, heading around the edge of the little room, which from the outside was completely camouflaged with bark. Thus why Smith probably hadn't found them in two weeks. Carefully, Dahlia followed his path, climbing down the tree carefully.

As they went, Pan explained. "The ship was hit by one of Hook's cannonballs. It tore a big chunk out of the ship. Some of the men, including Smith, escaped unto the island before it sank. They've been hiding in the jungle ever since, probably from Hook's pirates."

"And Hook?"

"Didn't dare go on the island, I guess. He backed off as soon as the ship sank. He hasn't left the ship since."

Strange, Dahlia wondered. When she had heard Hook speaking earlier—come to think of it, two weeks before—it had seemed as if he wanted to find something on the island too. Was he looking for the heart as well? If so, why didn't he come on the island and search like Smith was?

She shook her head. "This is so messed up."

Finally, they reached the ground. Feeling better being on firm earth, Dahlia finally had a chance to glance around. Staring up, she tried to see the sky through the tree branches. It wasn't night, but it didn't look that bright out either.

"What time is it?"

Pan moved across the ground. "Almost dinner. Hungry?"

Dahlia blinked. "Hungry? Oh, I forgot…have I not eaten for two weeks?"

He snorted. "Yeah, and that's why you're dead, because no one survives without food and water for two weeks."

"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

Pan turned back, giving her a broad smile. "I had Willy give you soup. But you must be hungry."

Dahlia blinked again. "This isn't the meal where you give me an empty plate and make me pretend there is real food on it, is it?"

The immortal boy laughed. "I haven't done that trick in years."

"Trick?"

"Moving food using magic, of course. I can't use magic anymore, remember?"

"So the food was real?"

"Of course, just don't tell the Lord Boys. I keep my tricks a mystery." His eyes sparkled with mischief.

Dahlia snorted. "Dude, you're such a kid."

"I'm the same age as you."

"I meant you act like a kid."

Pan rolled his eyes and continued on. Smiling, Dahlia followed. Finally they reached a tree, which Pan carefully opened up a door in and disappeared inside. Cautiously, Dahlia followed. Descending yet another set of branch stairs, they reached a long cave room with a large table in the center. Sitting at that table were a flock of boys, probably about twenty of them. Their din gave Dahlia a headache.

Stepping into the area, Pan placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. The noise died down as every boy looked in their direction.

Pan moved around the table, going to stand in front of the chair on the end. "Boys, this is Dahlia. Some of you met her briefly a couple weeks ago. Tonight we eat, and then…we plan."

He turned to look over at Dahlia, gesturing for her to sit in the seat to his left. Willy, seated on her other side, patted her chair. Slowly, Dahlia moved to sit down, watching as the boys dived into their food.

She stared around the table. These boys were just children. What kind of twisted mess did they all get themselves into? Sighing, Dahlia began filling her stomach with fruits and meat provided. It felt as if she hadn't eaten in weeks…well, she kind of hadn't.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: Hello, again. You will be prodigiously proud of me that I wrote this chapter in about an hour last night. I was so sure I wouldn't have time to write it, considering how busy my week as been, but somehow I did it. Before you ask, I know this chapter ends on a cliffhanger, which wasn't supposed to happen but the chapter was already over two thousand words and usually I like to keep it to be under that. So the cliffhanger somehow emerged. Next chapter will get back to the action. Again, let me know what you guys think and thanks for all the great comments. See you next week!**

21.

"Stars are beautiful, but they may not take part in anything, they must just look on forever." – J. M. Barrie

It turned out, giving a bunch of bored, mischievous boys the task of playing pranks on a group of sailors was pretty hilarious to watch.

Dahlia stared on towards the Lost Boys before her. They had finished eating several hours before and, despite the late hour, none of the boys seemed very apt to go to bed. They were still in the underground cave where dinner had been served. Once she had announced her idea of trying to slow down Smith while they tried to find the heart, every boy piped up with idea after idea of the most diabolical plots they could concoct. While it was humorous to watch, Dahlia just hoped they didn't take the pranks too far. Despite how malicious Smith was, she didn't want anyone to get killed. She had seen enough death.

She surveyed the room, looking for a familiar redhead. And yet Pan seemed nowhere to be seen.

Glancing to the pudgy boy cleaning dishes behind her, she asked, "Smoky, have you seen Pan around?"

'Smoky,' who she had met at dinner, was the professional chef of the Lost Boys. It seemed like the only reason he had the position was because he loved food, not because he could actually cook. Dahlia hadn't complained, considering how hungry she had been, but she had to admit that dirt would probably have tasted better than that dinner.

Smoky glanced up at her, his face instantly turning red. "Mi…miss, I—I don't know."

Dahlia smiled, rolling her eyes. "You don't talk to girls much, do you?"

He shook his head, and then turned to fiercely wipe an already dry plate.

"I saw him go outside earlier."

Dahlia turned at the voice as Willy came to stand next to her. The doctor seemed to be the most normal of the bunch, though that wasn't saying much considering this pack of lunatics.

Willy continued before she could comment. "He tends to go wandering by himself a lot recently. Ever since you came, actually."

Dahlia didn't know what to say.

Luckily, he didn't give her a chance. "He's probably up in a tree nearby."

She nodded, and turned to look at the boys putting together their traps. "So, you think any of those will actually work?"

Willy smiled, scratching his head. "You don't seem to think very well of us, do you? We may be young, but we've lived on this island for years. We've learned to survive." He paused. "You know, I see you doing it, though no one else probably does."

"Doing what?" Dahlia questioned.

"You look down on us." Dahlia opened her mouth to argue, but Willy raised his hand. "I know you probably don't mean to. It's just your way. Maybe it's your way of keeping yourself distant to people if you put us all in a block of not worth your respect. You make it seem like you're the victim. You've been through hell, and the rest of us have had a bloody well easy life. But frankly, you don't know anything.

"Smoky there, when he was a kid his mom used to beat him. He has trouble talking to anyone. In fact, when Pan first brought him here when Smoky was six, he didn't say a word. Took him two years to even utter a syllable. And Jack, over there, when he was eight, his older brothers forced him to watch them dissect an orphan cat Jack had taken it. So don't judge us, because everyone has problems."

Dahlia crossed her arms, embarrassed and angry. "At least I didn't run away from my problems. You all just tried to live in a dream world."

"We were kids, Dahlia! Kids don't have a choice, do they? We can't say we don't want to live with our parents anymore. We were kids."

"So was I!" Dahlia felt her voice rise.

Several of the boys closest to them, putting together what looked like a net, stopped their work and glanced at the pair.

Willy's voice rose to match Dahlia's. "Exactly! Admit it, if you had had a chance to run away to Neverland, wouldn't you have taken it?"

That silenced Dahlia. She stared at the boy in front of her, blinking. He was right, and she hated to admit it. Every day when she was younger, she'd wish that Peter Pan would come and take her away from her mother, away from the pain, and away from reality.

Willy lowered his voice. "Pan likes you. You know that, right?"

Dahlia looked away.

He took a step closer. "Just don't hurt him, okay?" He turned a walked silently away, back to where the boys worked.

Dahlia shook her head, a headache coming. She took a deep breath. She needed fresh air…now!

Walking around the boys, she headed up the stairs and out into the forest. Once she was out of tree and in the small clearing of trees, she took deep breathes and stared up at the sky. Through the thick tree branches, she could just see faint stars in the distance.

What kind of madness was she stuck in? Maybe Willy was right. Maybe she was too full of herself. She shook her head. No, she was just trying to survive.

In the silent forest, she suddenly became aware of a soft flute singing. Glancing back at the tree, she wondered if she should ask one of the boys what is was. It might be a nymph's song to seduce a stranger into a pool to drown them or something like that. Dahlia shook her head. No, probably not.

Forward she moved, following the sound until the trees opened up into nothingness. She realized then that the Lost Boy's camp was only a small distance from a cliff, looking out into the empty ocean. It was such a peaceful sight. The sky was surprisingly clear, considering how much it had rained when she had gotten here, and the stars shone brightly. The smell of the sea and the soft lull of ocean waves calmed her.

Glancing around, she spotted Peter Pan, sitting on the edge with his feet dangling out into the emptiness below. In his hands he held a delicate flute. His fingers move across the instrument as his mouth blew into it. The song was soft, almost like a lullaby.

Dahlia stepped forward, leaning against a tree so as to not interrupt the musician. She had never been fond of classical music, usually opting instead for alternative or hard rock, but something about this song made her wonder if she was missing something in ignoring the classics.

Finally, the song came to an end and Pan took the flute away from his lips.

Dahlia took the moment of silence to speak. "You know, that's probably not a good idea. What is someone hears you?"

Pan glanced back at her as she moved forward to stand behind him.

His grin was bright. "What's the point of living without a little risk?"

"It's called being cautious, you should try it sometime."

Pan patted the rock beside him. "Care to join me?"

"Let's see, join you dangling your legs off a cliff, off of which you could possibly fall any moment. No thanks."

"Don't you like adventure?"

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "I do, as long as it's careful adventure. I don't plan to be an idiot just for the thrills."

Pan shrugged, and stared out back at the ocean. "I've sat here every night since I came here. Back then, if I fell, I could just fly up again. I always had pixy dust. Or Tinker Bell was always there to save me. But eight years ago, suddenly I couldn't fly anymore. And yet, I still liked sitting here."

Dahlia sighed and crouched down next to him, careful not to get too close to the edge. "Look, Pan, we need to talk about possible places for your heart. Where Patrick or Wendy might have put it? I mean, where don't you go on the island? Or where can't you go?"

"Can we not talk about that now?" Pan remained staring out at the sky.

She leaned forward, looking into Pan's face. She was surprised to see he actually looked better. He didn't look quite as gaunt and frail as when she'd seen him before her two-week coma.

"Pan? Are you not getting sicker? I thought loss of your heart meant you were slowly dying."

"So did I, but I'm feeling better. I have been." He glanced at her. "Since you came, at least." Just as quickly as he looked at her, he turned away.

After a moment of silence, he pointed down the coast. "That's Cannibal Cove over there. You can just make out Hook's ship."

Dahlia squinted her eyes, trying to see. Far below them, the massive sails of the huge pirate ship stood out in the water. "It's so tiny. It's like looking down from my apartment and seeing all the tiny cars below me."

"I'd like to see your world, Lia."

Ignoring the insufferable nickname, Dahlia glanced at Pan, who was once again watching her.

"In fact," Pan continued, "I'd like to know everything about you."

She shook her head slowly. "No, you don't. I'm boring. I'm just a nerd obsessed with classical novels. There's nothing special about me. Well, except for my job, and that will be ending soon."

"I don't agree." Pan reached out and tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "I think you're unusual. You're not like anyone I've met."

"Says the boy who's lived on an island with other little boys since he was a baby." Dahlia's headache started to return and she realized she was barely breathing. Telling herself to breathe, she took in a slow, deep breath.

"Dahlia, what happens when we find my heart?"

Dahlia tried to keep her voice even, though Pan's closeness was suddenly making her uncomfortable. This was the second time this happened. Why was she suddenly so uncomfortable around Pan? "I suppose the island will go back to the way it was. Well, except for you guys being a bit older."

"Will you leave?"

Dahlia turned away, glancing back at the stars. "I can't stay here, can I? This place, it's a dream, and I'm too fond of reality. Besides, I've got a few unanswered question to ask when I get home."

Pan climbed to his feet, not saying a word, and started to walk away from the cliff. Rising, Dahlia turned to watch him.

"What?" She demanded.

He turned swiftly back towards her, his mouth in a tight line of anger. "You'd just leave like that then, wouldn't you?" His voice grew louder. "You don't care about us. You just care about getting home."

Great, he was being a drama queen too? She had just been yelled at by a kid doctor and she most certainly didn't need this. "That's not true. If that's all I cared about, I would have used the transporter when I had it. I told you, I want to help fix things on the island."

"Yes, and then you will be able to leave with a clear conscious, right?"

Dahlia stomped her feet, feeling more like a five-year-old suddenly. "Damnit, why do you have to yell at me? I'm trying to help. I've been trying to help since I got here. And what do I get? I get chased by pirates, threatened with bodily harm by your boys, kidnapped by several different groups, nearly drowned, and nearly killed. And you expect me to want to stay after all this is over. I could have died, Peter! I almost did. More than once, actually. But what would you know? You don't care!" Even as she said the words, she knew they weren't true, but she just needed to rant and he just happened to be there.

"You never cared," she continued, he voice rising, "Oh, maybe you had a little crush on me in the beginning, but you don't even know what love is. You've never had to sacrifice for someone. Right now, I feel more like I hate you than anything. I hate that you don't seem to listen to me. I hate that you have to make things so complicated. I hate that I don't hate you. I hate that you make me want to open up to someone for the first time in my life. I hate—"

Pan took two steps forward, his hands grabbing her face as he kissed her.

She froze.

A gunshot sounded in the silence and the soft whizz of a bullet passed them by inches.

Peter Pan pulled away.

Dahlia looked over at his shoulder, yet again looking down the barrel of a gun.

Nicholas Callenback stood pointing a gun at Pan's head.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: Hi, guys, welcome to yet another chapter. I was going to add a couple more slow chapters for character development...but then I remember my addiction to action and plot twists. So, here we go. The next few chapters will reveal quite a lot, but I won't give anything away. I'll let you guys decide what you think. Until next time, shoot me (well, don't literally shoot, because then I'll know Nick is rubbing off on you) a review with any thoughts you had about this chapter and have a great weekend!**

22.

"All are keeping a sharp look-out in front, but none suspects that the danger may be creeping up from behind." – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia needed a moment to process everything that was happening. Unfortunately, she didn't have that moment. In a second, a hundred thoughts cascaded through her brain. Peter Pan had just kissed her. Callenback had shown up…damn, he looked like a mess. His hair was tangled, his clothes were torn, and he looked even dirtier than when she'd last seen him on the ship. He really had let go of himself in two weeks, hadn't he?

She shook her head. She had glazed over one important point…Peter Pan had just kissed her!

Peter Pan, still facing her, stared down into her eyes anxiously as if looking for some reaction from her. Dahlia was surprised he didn't even seem phased that someone had just shot at him.

"Step away from her, boy." Nicholas Callenback's voice was dangerously soft, breaking as the hand that held the gun shook a bit. Whether he was nervous or furious, Dahlia couldn't tell.

Pan didn't move, his arms still holding Dahlia's shoulders. His eyes were still fixated on Dahlia's.

Not sure what this immortal boy was thinking, Dahlia could only try to do something herself. "Nick, what do you think you're doing?"

Callenback didn't move, but his eyes shifted to Dahlia's. "Saving you, of course. He's dangerous, don't you get it? He'll hurt you. I'll never let him hurt you!"

Dahlia gently removed Pan's hands from her shoulders, still looking at Callenback. "Don't be ridiculous. You're the one who's dangerous, waving that thing around as if you were a Billy the Kid impersonator. You need to calm down. Then maybe we can talk like rational, mature adults." Dahlia moved slowly around Pan, putting herself between him and the end of the gun, while she continued to talk. "Seriously, you're the oldest one here. Start acting like it."

Callenback's gun faltered slightly as his hand dropped several inches. "Dahlia, have you lost your mind? What kind of wanton woman are you, to be cavorting with the likes of him?"

Dahlia's jaw dropped. He had not just called her a wanton woman? "Are you serious? How about, what kind of crazy, stupid, egotistical nimrod decides to follow a captain who clearly has a few screws lose, and then decides that trusting a random girl he met on a pirate ship who is also pretty insane is a good idea? I mean, I don't think you can be pointing fingers here."

"Tell me this, then." Callenback paused. "Do you love him?"

Dahlia's heart skipped a beat. No, she didn't. She couldn't. Pursing her lips, she stated, "That has nothing to do with the situation at hand."

"I said." Callenback's voice rose to a shout. "Do you bloody-well love him?"

She blinked. While she was used to swearing, the idea of it coming from the mouth of Nicholas Callenback, who appeared in every way to be the ideal gentleman, seemed alien. This wild, dazed man before her seemed nothing like the idealistic gentleman she had met two weeks before.

"Nick, what happened to you?" Those were the only words she could think to say.

"It's the island." Callenback's hand began to shake even more. He was losing it, wasn't he? "There are things I've seen out there. Demons in the night. Behind the leaves, lurking in the dark. There's something evil on this island. Something much worse than he will tell you."

"Don't listen to him."

Pan's cold voice chilled the air around her.

Dahlia glanced behind her, surprised by the dark look clouding Peter Pan's face. He had turned around and moved to the side to stand beside her instead of behind. His eyes bore into hers.

Callenback continued, more hurriedly. "There are creatures on this island. Shadows. They kill anything they can get their hands on. I barely got away. Several times."

"Lia." Pan's hand touched her sleeve.

"No," Callenback took a step closer, the gun falling to his side. "Listen to me. We've got to get out of here."

Dahlia snorted. "Oh and how would we do that? We're on an island, remember?" She gestured around her. "And, unless you have a ship up that ratty jacket of yours, how exactly are we supposed to get off this island?"

"We'll go to Hook."

"Cause that's a great idea. Go to the pirate who imprisoned us last time."

"Better than being dead! If we stay here on the island, we're dead."

"No," Pan's voice interrupted their monologue. "I won't let anything hurt you, Lia."

"Bloody bastard, why don't you look at me?" Callenback lifted his gun again, directing it at Pan's heart…or, come to think if it, the spot his heart had been. "You are the reason for all this, aren't you? You blame anyone, just never yourself. Why is it that you're so in love now, but when Wendy was here you didn't give her a second look? I don't buy that you've become such a good person."

What was he talking about? Dahlia stared at Callenback. What did he know? Did Smith talk to him about Pan's heart? If so, why?

Pan took a step forward, finally turning his eyes on Callenback. Dahlia observed the intense looks between the two men. After a moment, Pan whispered two words that added a completely new twist on things.

"John Darling."

Dahlia blinked, examining Callenback. John Darling? As in Wendy Darling's younger brother? There was no way that was possible. Was it?

Callenback nodded. "You finally recognized me, eh, Peter? It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Pan shook his head, his voice slow. "That's impossible. You're too old. That was only eight years ago. John would have been only seventeen by now."

"This world moves different than mine. I've tried to search for a way to get back here. I've searched for years. I had to find you…to kill the boy who destroyed my family. And then Captain Smith found me. He was my ticket here. But I didn't think it would turn out like this. That I'd meet someone who looked so much like my dead sister. That she'd make my heart beat again."

"Wendy is dead?" Pan's voice sounded hoarse.

The two men seemed to be completely unaware of their surroundings. However, Dahlia wasn't. She noticed movement in the corner of her eye and turned to see the Lost Boys creep out of the edge of the forest, slowly moving towards Callenback, possibly to disarm him.

Dahlia bit her lip. Maybe Callenback wasn't the only one going insane? She wasn't sure how many more revelations she could deal with.

Callenback nodded. "Yes, Wendy's dead. She died giving birth to a baby. A baby who died hours after birth."

"And Patrick?"

"Patrick? You think you have to right to even say his name? He died too. In the war. A lot has happened in our world since you've been there.

Pan didn't say anything, simply drawing his mouth into a thinner line.

"And now I found you. Kissing my girl."

"Wow, dude! Not your girl," Dahlia interrupted. "I'm my own being with intelligent thought, thank you very much."

Callenback ignored her, continuing to talk to Pan. "And now's my chance. To get rid of you forever." He cocked the gun.

Before Dahlia could react, several of the Lost Boys jumped into action, grabbing for Callenback before he could pull the trigger. Unfortunately for Dahlia, they seemed to have forgotten momentarily that she was standing inches from the edge of a cliff.

One of the boys, in rushing towards Callenback, happened to whack Dahlia's arm.

In an instant, Dahlia did an internal face palm at her stupidity for not moving away from the edge. As she felt herself lose her balance, she tried to ascertain if there was anything to grab. Usually, she wouldn't make a fuss. But this time, out of frustration of the sheer stupidity of her life, she wasn't going down without a fight.

As she plunged through the empty air, she let out the loudest, most shrill scream she could muster. Any scream queen would have been proud. Everything moved past her in a blur.

The last thing she heard from the group above her were shouts, fading away quickly as the sound of waves hitting the rocks below her replaced any other voice. It felt for a moment as if she fell in slow motion, like she was in a bad, B-movie.

She shut her eyes…and waited to hit the rocks.

Only she didn't.

She opened her eyes.

A blackness, a darkness, shut in around her, blocking out all sound and movement.

A dark shadow enveloped her…


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: Hey, guys. So I'm sick with a cold this week so I'm probably not entirely coherent, but I didn't want to be lazy and just forget about you. For the chapter, this one is going to have another big twist-you guys know by now how I'm addicted to them. After this chapter, we're going into the long strength, which means we're nearing the end soon (sniff, sniff). Anyway, enjoy and let me know if something doesn't make sense.**

23.

"To reveal who he really was would even at this date set the country in a blaze." – J. M. Barrie

Just as quickly as it came, the darkness vanished.

Dahlia blinked at the dark cave around her. It took her a moment to ascertain her location. Just feet away stood a sheer drop. She glanced down. It appeared she had been moved into a hole in the cliff face, probably a fifty feet below where Pan and the others were.

"Dahlia…"

She turned…to face a cave with hundreds of dark eyes watching her.

"What the hell," she whispered upon her breath. It looked as if a thousand cats sat perched in the air around the cave, but quickly she realized they weren't cats: they were shadows. Hundreds of shadows. What were they all doing here?

One of the shadows stood before her. By his closeness, Dahlia assumed he had been the one to save her.

The first words out of Dahlia's mouth were, "You're Pan's shadow, right?"

The shadow's voice was soft. It was strange to hear because it sounded extremely similar to Pan's voice, except there was something darker, more mischievous about its tone. "And you're Dahlia Getz, daughter of Wendy Darling."

Dahlia shook her head. "You don't know that. The name might be a coincidence. Speaking of my name, actually, have you be spying on every conversation I've had? Because I don't take too kindly to having my private conversations eavesdropped on."

The shadow floated back and forth in an oval pattern. Perhaps he was bored. "Ah, but that is where you are wrong, my pet. Anything you tell Pan is the same as telling me."

"I thought since Pan lost his heart he lost you too. Actually, don't answer that. Now that you seem to be staying still more than a couple seconds, I have about a zillion questions to ask you."

"A zillion? That is quite a lot. And, as you might realize, you don't have much time to save the island. Not that I care. I have all the time in the world. Even as the world fades into oblivion, a shadow will always be there in the end. But how about this: I bore easily, so I'll strike a bargain with you. I will agree to answer only five questions truthfully. After that, nothing I say will be the truth. So, give me your queries, my precious."

Dahlia shivered. "Don't call me that, it reminds me of Gollum." She paused, trying to sort through all the questions in her head to find the five more important ones.

"Okay," she started. "First question: where is Pan's heart?"

"I will show you. Right now, if you like, but you'll lose your chance at four other questions if we leave now."

Dahlia blinked. This shadow—who pretty much everyone agreed was evil—seemed surprisingly corporative. There must be a catch.

"Fine, second question." She thought for a moment. Finally, she decided on one she was dying to know, but probably wasn't as important as other questions. But still, those cat eyes staring at her bothered her. "Who do all these shadows belong to?"

The shadow snorted at the mass of hundreds of shadows, all crawling over each other like puppies. "These are the Lost Boys, of course."

"What?" Dahlia stared in wonder. "But there are only like twenty boys, so there's no way there would be over a hundred shadows."

"I'll give you a hint…these shadows are accumulative."

"Accumulative? You mean that every Lost Boy who has come to this island has lost his shadow?"

"Is that your third question?"

Dahlia shook her head. This guy was sure a stickler for the rules. "No. Okay, let me think. Oh, I have it. Third question: why is Pan suddenly looking better when he's supposed to be dying?"

Pan's shadow waved his translucent hand in dismissal. "The boy exaggerates everything, doesn't he? Just because he doesn't have his heart doesn't mean he's dying or the island is dying. The island is dying because Pan has nothing to believe in. Magic dies without belief. As this island is fundamentally based on principals of belief in magic, without faith the island has nothing to keep it together. And now, in the poor boy's deluded mind, he has decided to place some belief in you. This gives a little power back to the island."

For being Pan's shadow, and essentially a part of him, this shadow seemed to have a completely different, more mature personality. Strange. Something about this didn't settle right with Dahlia. Everything seemed to fall into place so perfectly. To perfectly. She was recruited by Yriaf and, if Pan's shadow was telling the truth, she turned out to be Wendy's daughter. Also, it seemed entirely convenient that Pan's heart had been on the island the entire time. And why were hundreds of boys' shadows here, if the shadows only became separated when Pan's heart vanished? Had all these Lost Boys somehow lost their hearts too? Something more was going on.

"Well? What's your next question? I don't have all night. I need to go check in on Smith."

Dahlia glanced back up at the shadow, realizing she had been standing there contemplating for several minutes. She opened her mouth to ask why Wendy had hid Pan's heart, but then she froze.

Smith had commented that Pan's shadow knew where Pan's heart was. How? How had Hook captured Pan's shadow when she'd first came? How had the shadow been able to stay in the guise of Tinkerbell? Since he was a shadow, why couldn't he have just slid through the bars of the tiny cage? Nothing made sense, unless…

"Fourth question: are you behind everything that's been happening?"

Pan's shadow fell silent. She couldn't make out an expression—well, he was a shadow, after all.

Dahlia took a step towards him. "You said you'd answer five questions truthfully. So answer my question. Are you behind all this?" Again, he didn't say anything. "You just happen to be in Hook's room the moment I get there, right next to the scroll I need. It doesn't make sense that Hook could capture you. I mean, come on, he doesn't seem like the most ingenuous of pirates. So how would he be able to get you, unless you purposefully let yourself get caught. If so, why? And how did you know I'd be coming and let you out?

"Another thing, you always show up at the perfect timing. You rescued Pan and me from Smith. But how did you know we needed to be rescued, unless you knew Smith would just happen to find us at that point. And then when Smith took me on his ship, it seemed awfully convenient that he saw you by the boat in the middle of the night—I mean, you are a shadow—and was able to deduce that you were trying to protect me. That is, unless you made certain he saw you. And now, you save me again just to do what? Take me into a cave and agree to answer five questions, after revealing I am Wendy's daughter. Everything is just too formulaic, too perfect. Who exactly are you?"

Finally, Pan's shadow let out a loud laugh, which echoed across the walls of the cave. He moved around her slowly, floating out of the cave, hovering above the sea far below.

"You take one thing for granted, my pet."

"What's that?"

"That that boy you just kissed is Peter Pan."

Dahlia crossed her arms. At this point, she didn't believe any nonsensical thing this guy spouted. "Really? If he isn't Pan, who is he?"

"Simply a lost boy. One in a hundred." He gestured behind her to the shadows.

She glanced back at the globs of translucent mass. What was he talking about? He had said that these were all Lost Boys. She turned back towards him. "How about this, then. My fifth question: Tell me who you are?"

The shadow bowed low. "I am Peter Pan. The one and only Peter Pan."

He floated towards her, settling his feet on the ground before her.

"You want to know more? How about this? I'm the devil incarnate. I am father time himself. I dance for the gods at Olympus. I am a jester, a myth, a nightmare. I am why children wake up screaming in their sleep some nights. I find boys who want freedom, who are willing to give anything to be free, to never grow…even their hearts."

A cold air suddenly seemed to fill the cave, though Dahlia was sure it was just her.

The shadow continued, "Every few centuries, I find a boy who is special; a boy with a propensity towards magic. I get them when they are babies, so they will never remember a home. Then I bring them here and they grow up with the name Peter Pan. Though, eventually, time finds everyone and those boys must depart."

"Depart?" Dahlia interrupted. "As in go back to earth?"

"Your questions are up."

"You still haven't answered my fourth question: did you plan all this?"

"You'll have to see, now won't you?"

Dahlia wanted to slap him. She didn't care if he was some sort of trickster god or whatever. "Bullshit. You said you'd answer five questions honestly. Didn't you say you were all about bargains?"

"Ah, but time is running out for all of you. You'll find the boy's heart on Skull Rock beneath the gold. Tell the boy. He will know where it is. Tick tock, tick tock…You're running out of time."

The shadow slowly faded into the darkness, along with the rest of the shadows. When they were gone, Dahlia could make out a set of rock stairs heading up that they had been blocking. Rattled, she sprinted towards them.

She had to get out of here. This madness had to end.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's note: Hi, guys. I'm typing a really quick message because I know I'm late in posting. I've been so busy with midterms that I didn't get a chance to write this chapter until this morning (so be ready for grammar typos). But here it is, I hope you like, and let me know what you think!**

24.

"Forever is a very long time, Peter." – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia raced up the rocky stairs, her heart beating. She wasn't dead and this wasn't a dream. She had to keep reminding herself of this fact or she was sure her brain would explode. The steep steps left her out of breath and when she finally reached the ground above, she was wheezing like an eighty-year-old. She needed to exercise more. That, or she was still recovering from her near death experience.

After ascertaining her position—thankfully, she wasn't far from where she'd fallen off the cliff—, Dahlia hurried towards the Lost Boy's camp. Everyone had left the cliff. They had better not just ignored the fact that she'd fallen off the cliff and—

"Ah!"

Dahlia jumped as a short figure fell directly in front of her. It turned out to be Tip. His spiked black hair looked just as spikey as when she'd last saw him and he wore the same ridiculously happy grin as before.

"Oi, my lady! Private Tip reporting, at your service." He saluted and then flourished a bow.

"Geez, are all you Lost Boys like that. Jumping down from trees and freaking people out?"

"Did I?"

"Never mind. What's up?"

Tip glanced up at the sky. "Well, it looks like rain soon. There are the trees too and—"

Dahlia waved her head, amused. "Never mind. I mean what are you doing jumping down from trees?"

Tip gestured behind him. "I was heading to camp to report to Peter when I spotted you on your own. I thought I might drop in…ha, ha. Get it, drop in?"

Her ears perked, ignoring his terrible joke. "Report what?"

"Captain Hook just came ashore with some of his men."

"Hook?"

This didn't sound good. Why had Hook suddenly decided to come ashore when he'd been moored off the coast for the two weeks Dahlia had been unconscious. What had changed?

"Um, my lady? Can I go tell Peter? I don't mean to be rude, but—"

Dahlia shook her head. "No, you're right. We have to hurry."

Together, they turned and ran towards the Lost Boy's camp.

To Dahlia's surprise, the center of the camp was silent when they reached it. She expected some of the boys to be outside, but there was nothing.

"Where is everyone?"

Tip shrugged as he headed towards the center tree. "Nobody hangs outside anymore. If we do, it's up in the trees. We don't want to give away the location of our camp. We'd have nowhere to go, especially now that the Indian camp has been wiped out."

As Tip reached to open the door, Dahlia interrupted. "Wiped out? Are they dead?" She hoped Tiger Lily was alright. She had only briefly met the girl, but for some reason she felt partially responsible for her safety.

Luckily, Tip shook his head. "They're right as rain. Most of them are hiding in the mountains. Just the evil captain burned their camp."

Dahlia sighed in relief as the tree door opened and Tip disappeared inside. At least the Native American tribe was alive. She agreed with Tip, though: Smith was an evil man. Was one person willing to destroy all these lives just to attain endless youth? It seemed a bit much, to say the least.

Slipping into the tree behind Tip, she made her way down the stairs. The moment they started to descend, the loud murmur of voices caught their attention. Dahlia made sure to tightly seal the door shut in case someone might hear them. Finally reaching the bottom, Dahlia surveyed the room before her and her mouth dropped.

In the center of the room sat Callenback—actually, she should start calling him John—who was tied tightly to one of the dining chairs with thick vines. All the Lost Boys surrounded him, mostly holding weapons. As she and Tip approached, she saw Jack carefully leaning a knife against John's face. Peter Pan sat away from the group in a chair, silently thinking. Dahlia wondered what he was thinking about with such hostility around him.

"Dahlia!"

Willy came emerged out of the group and caught Dahlia by the shoulders as Tip moved over to Pan.

"Are you well? The boys said you fell off the cliff, but Pan said not to worry." The boy doctor's voice sounded truly concerned.

Dahlia shook her head, slightly perturbed at Pan. "Well, that's nice of him to just leave me for dead. And, for your information, I'm fine, but no thanks to you guys!" She glanced towards John tied to the chair. He and the other Lost Boys hadn't spotted her yet. "What are you going to do with him?"

Willy shrugged. "Question him. Don't worry, Jack's all talk. We won't hurt him. It's strange, though, seeing John back. It's seems like centuries since he left."

Again, Dahlia tried to align this version with the original book. "But didn't all the Lost Boys go with Wendy back to London?"

Willy's face darkened. "Why would you think that?"

"Never mind."

"Lia." Dahlia glanced over to see Pan coming towards her at a rapid pace. Before she could react, he reached and a grabbed her hand. "Let's talk." Without waiting for a response, Pan pulled her by the arm out of the room and up the stairs.

When they were outside of the tree, Dahlia firmly planted her feet, jolting Pan to a stop. "So, you think it's fine to just abandon me after I fell off a cliff? You weren't worried at all?"

Pan turned, placing a hand over Dahlia's mouth. "Please, be quiet. We're not alone yet."

Dahlia glanced around. It certainly looked like no one was around. She paused, recalling what Pan's shadow had said about always being around.

Without waiting for Dahlia to answer, Pan turned and pulled her along for a while. Through the hundreds of trees. Finally, he reached a tree and opened a door. Instead of having stairs, this tree just had a ladder, which Pan vanished down.

Following cautiously, Dahlia paused before going down and called, "Should I close the door?"

"It doesn't matter." Pan didn't look up.

Rolling her eyes, Dahlia shut the door. After an endless climb down in the pitch darkness, Dahlia feet felt the ground. She tried to squint to see anything, but this area wasn't lighted with candles as the other had been. In the darkness, she listened for Pan, but she heard nothing. "Pan? Are you there?"

"Shh!"

Pan was so close that she jumped at his breath in her ear. She felt him take her hand. "Don't talk, just follow me."

Dahlia pursed her lips, prepared to make a pert response, but she stopped herself and merely followed after him in the darkness. She couldn't tell whether they were in a passageway or a large room, but either way it felt as if the passage was slanted downwards. Down and down they walked, until Pan finally stopped. His pause made Dahlia run into him, again.

"Pan, would you please stop doing that!"

She couldn't see anything, but she felt Pan turn. "What did he say?"

"Who?"

Peter Pan sighed. "I saw him rescue you. My shadow. Or, should I say, Peter Pan."

Dahlia froze. Was he talking about the shadow? Did that mean that the shadow was telling the truth? "You mean, your shadow _is_ really the real Peter Pan? How did you know that?"

"What else did he say to you?"

Dahlia thought back. "He said your heart was at Skull Rock under some gold, whatever that means. Also, I have a feeling he's behind all this. He just seems to have too much luck for it not to be planned. Plus, there were a hundred shadows there too. He said they were the shadows of previous Peter Pans. Do you know what he meant?"

Pan was silent for a minute, making Dahlia wonder if he was still standing there. Eventually, he answered her. "I don't know, but it makes sense. He always mentioned that there were hundreds of Neverlands, each made for a boy like me."

"Really? I wonder what happened to them."

"They died, like Neverland is dying."

Dahlia shook her head. "That's another thing. The shadow said that the island isn't dying because of your missing heart. He said it's dying because you're losing belief. And he said it's been getting better since I came because you have something to believe in. Don't worry, I don't fully believe him. But listen, Pan, we have to hurry and find your heart and—"

"I don't want to."

She paused, slightly shocked but mostly annoyed. "What do you mean you don't want to? What are you: five? This is supposed to fix everything."

"If I get back my heart, I'll stay nineteen forever, but you'll leave and get old. Plus, I'll never be rid of the shadow then."

Pan's hands suddenly grabbed Dahlia's shoulders. "Listen to me, Lia. If we go to find the heart, you have to promise me one thing."

"What?"

"That you'll destroy my heart."

That gave Dahlia a shock. What was he talking about? "Why would I do that?"

"Because the the only thing that can free us is destroying my heart."

"But won't you die?"

Pan let out a sigh. "I suppose so. But if you kill my heart, you kill him too. He'll never steal another boy. This sickening circle will end."

"No! First of all, if I destroy your heart, Neverland will die and we will too. Secondly, the shadow said he released the boys after some time. And thirdly—"

"Releases them? Lia, he kills them." His grip tightened on her shoulders. "Listen to me, Smith currently has your transporter. I will have the boys lure him to Skull Rock while you kill my heart. Then you take the transporter and get the Lost Boys out of here."

"What about Tiger Lily and her tribe?"

"We can't save everyone."

Dahlia shook her head. "This sounds absurd."

"But believe me: it's the only way. Look, I've got to get back to the boys. We've got to start my plan. It will all end soon."

She continued to shack her head, unable to stop. For some reason, she felt tears come to her eyes, which sounded ridiculous. She blamed it on the dust in the room they were standing in. "No, I'm not going to kill you. I can't. You don't know what it feels like to have blood on your hands. To know that it was you who took the life of another. I can't live with that knowledge, Pan. I can't."

"You have to! I can't ask anyone else to. Please, I'm begging you. This has to end."

"No, Pan. This isn't right. There is another way. Stop playing the sacrificial hero."

"Lia, if I get my heart back, the shadow has control over me again. Please."

Dahlia shut her eyes, taking in a deep breath of musty air. "I care about you, Pan. At the very least, you are a friend. How do you expect me to kill a friend?"

"Just a friend?"

"Well, I certainly don't need romance. Remember, we've known each other for a few weeks, and most of that time I was asleep. Anyway, we're getting off topic."

Pan released her arms, slowly moving around her. "It's your decision. I can't force you. When the time comes, it will be your decision. We should head back."

He took her hand gently and led her out of the darkness. They didn't speak until they'd gotten back to the Lost Boy's tree.

By the time they came down the stairs, Dahlia was about ready to wrench out her hair. How could she kill Peter Pan?


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's note: Hi, guys, so I know this chapter is late again. I woke up this morning and forgot completely that I had a chapter to write. This week has been insanely busy for me. So this chapter is a bit short, but still fast paced. A lot of questioned will be answered in the next chapter, so look forward to that. Let me know what you think and, as always, I'll see you next week.**

25.

"I taught you to fight and to fly. What more could there be?" – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia stared over at Callenback. She refused to call him John. John was the sweet, intelligent boy from the original. Not the lying lunatic lounging before her—yes, this was the time to use alliteration. She shook her head in disgust.

It had been two hours since Dahlia had had the "kill me" conversation with Pan. In those two hours, Pan had relayed his plan to lure Smith to Skull Rock—not getting into the fact that he wanted to sacrifice himself—and, soon after, all the boys had left to set the traps, leaving Dahlia behind to watch Callenback. At least she knew that this meant Pan trusted her enough to leave her alone with their prisoner, though he certainly hadn't said anything to her since their talk in the darkness except to ask her to wait here.

It felt strange: the idea of killing Pan. Even though he was just a fictional character, the idea of destroying his heart didn't seem ethical. To her, he had become a real person. And yet, since her run-in with his shadow, she was beginning to wonder if none of this would be over until the shadow was destroyed. However, there must be another way to destroy him than by killing Pan.

And yet, how could she formulate a plan when she knew so little about Pan's shadow? What were his weaknesses, for example? Was he afraid of water, like the Wicked Witch of the West? Knowing anything might be helpful.

She turned to look at Callenback, still tied to the chair under the ground. "Why did you lie to me?"

Callenback, whose head had been hanging down with his eyes closed, awakened and looked up at her. It looked like he had a black eye forming. Dahlia didn't doubt he'd sustained it in his struggle with the Lost Boys earlier.

He definitely held her gaze. "You don't believe me when I say this island is dangerous, so why should I tell you the truth?"

Dahlia crossed her arms. "Bullshit. Just because I don't do what you say doesn't mean I don't believe you. I know this island is dangerous. As you recall, we were both chased by bloodthirsty Native Americans just a couple weeks ago. I'm talking about you telling me you were Nicholas Callenback. Why didn't you tell me you were John Darling to begin with?"

"How could I trust you?"

"You trusted Smith!"

"Just because he was the only thing that could get me to Neverland. There was no other way. Besides, he's not all the bad."

"Not all the bad?" Dahlia stared at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? He's insane! He attempted to wipe out the tribe on this island. He didn't care if all his men died. He tried to kill me more than once. And he's doing all this destruction just in pursuit of immortality. I have met pretty despicable characters in my time, but he trumps them all. How can you still think he's not that bad?"

Callenback griped the armrests tightly. "Bloody hell, Dahlia. You think anyone is different? When I met you, you would do anything to get off this island. And Pan, he just wants to get his heart back. He doesn't care who he hurts. He never has."

"Never has?" Dahlia realized something then that she had been an idiot not to think of before. Callenback had been there. When Pan's heart was stolen, when Patrick betrayed Neverland. Everything. This could be her chance to learn the true story. "Nick…actually, John, what really happened back then?"

"I thought you knew everything?"

"I have pieces. Pieces of an intricate puzzle. The problem is, some of the pieces are missing and without those pieces, I can't hope to have a full picture. Can you tell me what you remember?"

Callenback shook his head. "I was eight. It's not as if I remember all the details. I was a child that was entranced with the idea of staying young forever. When Peter brought us to the island, it was like a dream. We fought pirates and flew up in the clouds. But then…Tinker Bell was killed and the fairy tree burned. Luckily, Patrick got a bag of pixy dust, enough to take us home."

"Who burned the tree? Tiger Lily said it was Patrick."

"Patrick would never do anything like that! But I wasn't there, so I don't know who did it. I just remember seeing fire. Whoever did it burned everything…the fairy tree, Wendy's house—"

"Wendy's house?" Dahlia interrupted him. "Why would anyone burn her house? Was there something inside it?"

Callenback shrugged. "I don't know."

"What about Pan's heart? Why did Patrick steal Pan's heart?"

"Actually, I never really understood why. I asked him that question too, a few years later before he went off to the war. His response was a bit critic. I still don't understand it."

"What did he say?" She leaned forward, listening intently.

"He turned to me and said, 'So that Peter Pan's story can't be told again.' "

Dahlia froze. That sounded like something someone for her world would say. In fact, it was something that only someone from her world would say. That meant…that meant that Patrick was from her world.

"No way," she said more to herself than to Callenback. What kind of madness was this world? She'd gone into a book, just to find that Smith was from her world and possibly Patrick, who had started this, was too. What was going on? Patrick had lived and died in this world, so how had he gotten here?

"John, did Patrick ever talk about where he came from?" Dahlia questioned.

"He'd always say he came from a different world. A world where cars went faster and life was more complex. I once asked him if he ever wanted to go back here, but his only response was that he couldn't leave Wendy…he loved her too much."

Dahlia bit her lip. This was all so strange. It felt as if she was missing the big picture. The biggest question she had about this story was: why was everything so different when she came here? Why had it changed? Was Patrick the reason?

A sharp crash came from above them.

Callenback and Dahlia glanced up in unison.

Another bang followed. Dahlia tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. It didn't take her long to realize it was coming from up the stairs in the direction of the tree door.

Dahlia jumped up. Splintering of wood sounded from up the stairs and, before she could react, footsteps sounded from the top of the stairs. Who was it? If they broke down the door, it wasn't the Lost Boys. Pirates? Smith's men? If so, how had they found the camp that the boys seemed confident no one knew about?

To her complete amazement, a figure exited the stairs and took off his hat.

The man before her was Elat Yriaf.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: Hello, again, guys. This chapter is really long (it's almost twice the length of most of my chapters), but I promise it's a quick read and it will clear up some of the questions presented earlier in the book. It also is extremely important in bringing about the climax, which will be occurring quite soon. Also, and I know this is a bit late but I forgot last week, Happy Halloween! Or, if you're not into that, Happy All Souls Day! As always, let me know what you think about this chapter and I will see you all next week!**

26.

"There is a saying in the Neverland that, every time you breathe, a grown-up dies." – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia had no words which could properly describe her reaction at seeing her boss. After days on this fairytale island, it felt out of place to see Elat Yriaf standing before her. His suit, his cane, and his solemn stare felt alien to her eyes. She wasn't sure whether she should feel happy, relieved, annoyed, or angry.

The pair stood frozen for a moment, Yriaf at the bottom of the steps and Dahlia sitting on one of the chairs. When the silence was broken, it was neither of them who spoke. This time, it was Callenback.

"Who are you?"

Yriaf glanced at the young man, squinting his eyes to see him better. Apparently deciding the boy was not worth his time, he turned to Dahlia, looking her up and down.

"Well, you don't appear dead," he finally stated matter-a-factly. "And you certainly don't appear incapacitated. Which warrants a question from me: why did you force me to take time out of my very busy schedule in order to come all the way to Neverland to find you?"

That was it? Her rescuer, in many respects, had finally come to get her out of this crazy, fictional world. And the only thing he could do was blame her for getting herself stuck here. For a moment, she forgot that he had gotten her out of prison, given her a job, and a new life.

Rising, Dahlia glared at her boss. "I'm so sorry your job of ordering people around has been disrupted. While you were prancing away out in the real world, I was in this living hell where pretty much everyone wants to kill me or me to kill someone else. I'm so sorry that I've been fighting pirates and crazy captains while you have been comfy on your elaborate penthouse couch."

Yriaf shook his head, almost looking disappointed. "I see you still have that temper of yours. Dahlia, I _was_ worried about you. However, the business must continue and I had to cancel two meetings to be able to find the time to come here. Anyway, we should be going." He turned.

"I can't."

Dahlia's boss paused at her words, but didn't turn back.

"I can't leave this place yet," Dahlia continued to his back. "Do you have any idea what is going on here? Neverland is dying and Pan needs to find his heart."

"That is none of your concern." Yriaf's voice sounded relaxed and silky smooth, as if he was both bored by her and trying to calm her.

Dahlia blinked. "Why do you sound so calm? Did you know?"

"I am always calm. The moment I lose my cool is the moment I lose control over my reason, something I will never do. Now, I understand you are concerned, but I have a schedule to keep. Let's go." He took a step forward, towards the stairs.

"No," Dahlia said more forcefully. "I won't be going anywhere until you answer some questions. Like, do you know Patrick Getz? Why is this story so changed when all the other stories I've been in have been in an exact part of the book? And why send me to retrieve a scroll that's blank?"

"You broke one of the rules."

"To hell with the rules."

"You know I despise your language, my dear. But I won't take the time to berate you, since we have to go. Jay is waiting. I'm assuming your transporter got broken, thus why you couldn't return. However, Jay can surely fix it." He took another step, still not looking at her.

"I don't have the transporter, broken or otherwise. Captain Smith took it."

"Oh? Well, Jay will fashion you a new one, I suppose. Now, hurry up."

Dahlia didn't move, instead planting her feet firmly and crossing her arms. "Why are you so anxious to get me out of here? That isn't you at all. You're more precise, more methodical. You don't do things quickly. So what aren't you telling me? Do you know something?"

Yriaf didn't say anything.

Dahlia knew he wouldn't, either. He wasn't the type to confess everything. So she gave him some incentive.

"Is your name Maxwell?" She didn't know if Smith had been telling the truth when mentioning that Yriaf's real name was Maxwell, but if it would unsteady Yriaf from his high horse for one second, it would be satisfaction enough.

To Dahlia's surprise, Yriaf instantly turned on her, his face rift with expression. For a man who rarely showed his feeling, it seemed wrong for him to suddenly look a bit distressed. "What did you say?"

"Oh, so Smith was telling the truth. That is your real name. Of course, I knew that Elat Yriaf wasn't your real name. I mean, seriously, whose name is fairy tale backwards. But to think you have a name like Maxwell! It fits you perfectly, might I add. It sounds just like the posh British chap you are."

"Smith? Who is this Smith?"

"How would I know? He's the captain who is trying to get Pan's heart in order to gain eternal life. Crazy, if you ask me. But he claims he's from our world. Since he actually knows about our world, I'm inclined to believe him."

"Is he moderate height, dark beard, big belly, around fifty?"

"You forgot his angry face and beady, dark eyes."

Yriaf whirled and began pacing the room slowly. "This presents a dilemma."

"Bloody hell, Yriaf, explain to me what is happening or I may punch you!" Dahlia was annoyed about being in the dark, and here was the man who held much of the knowledge that led to her cloudy confusion.

"His name isn't Smith, as you guessed. It is Pierre Franco. He was part of LEA, many years ago. He was the assistant to one of our founders. However, it soon became clear that he was only obsessed with power, and fame. Due to several instances of unethical behavior, LEA was forced to terminate his employment. However, when he left he took along with him rudimentary plans to create a transporter. I have been trying to track him since, but he carefully covers his tracks. You say he is here, on the island?"

Dahlia nodded. This made sense on how Smith—or Franco, she supposed—got a transporter. "As far as I know, right now he is in the middle of the jungle looking for Pan's heart. However, there's a lot going on. We were planning to lure him to where we believe the heart is to steal the transporter."

"We?"

"The Lost Boys, Pan, and I."

Yriaf sighed and shook his head, rubbing his finger against his temple. "You've inserted yourself into this story, haven't you?"

"Just like Patrick did?"

He didn't respond.

"Is he related to me? If he is, I have every right to know who he is."

"Suddenly you are so curious, Dahlia. I thought you didn't care to learn more about your family."

"So he is my family."

Yriaf looked reluctant, his hand slightly reaching out but then pulling back. Finally, he gave a pert nod. "He is."

"Is he my father?"

"Indeed, that is what your mother claimed."

"Does that mean Wendy is my mother?"

Before Yriaf could answer, Callenback jumped into the conversation. "I know you!"

Dahlia and Yriaf turned in unison to the man still sitting tied to the chair. Dahlia had completely forgotten he was in the room.

Callenback continued, "You came to our house once. In London. You knew my brother-in-law."

Yriaf finally gave more attention to Callenback, squinting his eyes. "Impossible. Ah, you must be John Darling. Patrick mentioned you."

Dahlia stomped her foot. "Maxwell, or whatever your name is, tell me exactly who I am."

Her boss glanced at her and smiled slightly. "You are a miracle. You shouldn't exist, and yet you do. You are the product of two worlds, a literary one and the reality we know as Earth. Your parents, as you might have guessed, are Patrick Getz—a worker for LEA and New York resident—and Wendy Darling—a character for a fictional book."

"Fictional book," Callenback stuttered. "What are you talking about? I'm fictional?"

Dahlia ignored him. "If I was born in fictional London, how did I end up in the real world?"

"It was your father's wish. When Wendy was pregnant, he used the transporter to contact me. He informed that, if anything happened to him, that I should take care of Wendy. It did. He died in World War I. Well, the fictional WWI. He must have known there was a good chance he would. However, Wendy also died giving birth to you, and so I fulfilled Patrick's wish. I took you back to the real world and gave you to Patrick's sister…the woman you came to know as mother."

Dahlia felt sick. Moving back a step, she fell into the chair she had previously been sitting in. She couldn't believe this was happening. Everything she knew had been a lie. That sounded like a cliché, but it was true. Her mother was her aunt. And her birth mother was a fictional character in a book. That sounded crazy. And yet, it made sense. That her adoptive mother gave her Peter Pan when she was younger, something that she had never repeated. In fact, her mother had been annoyed by Dahlia's obsession with books.

She glanced at Callenback, who was staring at her in horror. The truth that he was actually her uncle seemed to be dawning on him.

"What?" He sputtered. "You mean…you're my…but how? Even if you were that baby that we believe died, you would only be eight or nine now. Not nineteen!"

"Time is a precarious thing," Yriaf commented. "Depending on the sphere in which it plays out, time fluctuates. Thus, different dimensions, you might say, move differently. For Neverland the time between Patrick coming and now is only eight years. But in London it is at least twice that. Similarly, in my world, it is probably over thirty years."

Callenback just stared up at him with his mouth wide open. Dahlia was surprised a fly didn't fly inside.

Dahlia uncrossed her arms and rose slowly. "So, Patrick came here from our world. If that's the case, is that why everything was messed up in this world?"

Yriaf nodded solemnly. "I believe so. Those rules, the handbook I gave you when you first came to work for LEA…it is there for a reason. Because, if you are seen, you may affect the story in negative or positive ways. Either way, you change it. Patrick did this. He was young when he started working with me, but ever so brilliant. When he was fourteen, I sent him to get the same scroll you were sent for. However, he got caught be the pirates. After Peter Pan saved him, they became friends. For some selfish reason, Patrick decided to stay."

He paused. "For a moment there, I thought you had too. But then I figured you aren't that stupid."

She ignored that insult. "How much do you know about what's going on on the island?" Dahlia asked, curious. He had made things a lot clearer about LEA and her life, but not about a solution to save the island.

"Nothing but what Patrick mentioned when he came to see me years later when you were about to be born."

"What did he say?"

"Something about stopping the process and how Tinker Bell was protecting the shadow. He didn't mention in detail, but he said he hadn't been able to finish things. He mentioned that he had had to make a choice between saving Wendy and saving Peter, and that he'd chosen Wendy."

Dahlia turned away. Interesting. Tinker Bell was protecting the shadow—the shadow probably referred to Pan's shadow. Did that mean Tinker Bell had been bad? If Patrick said he couldn't finish things, did that mean he had a plan of how to finish it? A plan that might save Peter and the island?

"You really aren't coming back yet."

She turned at her boss's words. For the first time towards him, she smiled. "Thank you. For everything you've done to help me. But when I came here, I kept having a feeling like I was somewhat responsible. That my arrival was what threw the island out of balance. I was partially right, but it wasn't me who did it. It was my father. And right now, for better or for worse, I think I have to finish what he started."

Yriaf smiled slightly. "You always reminded me of your father. I had hoped none of this would happen. That I wouldn't have to hire you. That you would never know who you were. But fate, it appears, is against me."

He stepped forward, holding out his hand.

Dahlia glanced down. In his palm lay a transporter. It wasn't as intricate as hers, but it looked basically the same construction.

"When you are finished here, this will take you home. Or you can stay. It is your choice. As of this moment, are contract is null. This is your last mission."

She took the device in her hands. "Last mission?"

"You broke the rules. Multiple rules. You are fired."

Dahlia blinked. From the slight twinkle in his eyes, she wasn't sure how serious he was.

Elat Yriaf bowed. "Finish your story, Dahlia, for you are the only one who can. Now, excuse me, I have an old friend to go see."

Raising his wrist, he pressed the button on his transporter around his hand and vanished.

"Bloody hell!" A loud voice sounded behind her.

Dahlia glanced back at Callenback, who looked more traumatized than she was. Letting out a laugh, she pocked the transporter Yriaf had given her. Moving over to Callenback, she leaned down and placed a finger over her mouth.

"Shh. This scene stays between us. Right, Uncle John?" Her last words were almost sarcastic, even if they were true.

John Darling blinked. "I feel faint."

"Welcome to my mad, crazy world. Now, are you going to help me or do I have to keep you tied up?"

John Darling glanced up at her. "Maybe I was wrong. Not everything is as it seems. Fine, I'll help. I mean, if it's what Patrick would have wanted. I don't understand everything that you just talked about it, but Patrick was like a brother to me. And, if I can help finish what he started, I will."

Dahlia rose, grinning. "Good. Now, let's finish this story."


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: Hi, guys, yet again. This is going to be another intense chapter. I want to talk about a couple things before I get to the chapter. First, I apologize for all the typos in my chapters. I was reading chapter 26 to remind myself what happened, and I found quite a few typos. Once I finish this book, I'm hoping to go through it and change all of them. But for now, I hope it doesn't detract too much for the story. Secondly, I know that I'm publishing the chapters a few hours later for the last few weeks, but I'm probably going to permanently be doing this, more because I prefer giving you guys a quality chapter later than hurrying at midnight the night before and giving you a mediocre chapter. Currently, I'm writing the chapter when I wake up in the morning. So it's going to continue to be a little later on Friday (or, another day if you're somewhere in the world besides the United States). So, with that said, I'll let you get to the chapter. Let me know what you think, as always, and thank you again for all the amazing support you've given for the last few months of this story. See you all next week!**

27.

" 'Proud and insolent youth,' said Hook, 'prepare to meet thy doom.' " – J. M. Barrie

"Where exactly are we headed?"

Dahlia didn't look back towards her uncle—that word still sounded alien to her ears. She continued walking through the forest, not turning back. "We are going to find Pan."

"You sure that's a good idea." John Darling slapped a mosquito on his arm. "This place is evil. I told you. It's dangerous to go wandering—"

"We have to find Pan and stop the Lost Boys from setting up the traps," Dahlia interrupted, in too much of a hurry to hear about his worries. "The only reason we were going to lure Smith to the island was so I could get the transporter back. Now that I have this transporter, I don't need it."

"Right…so what exactly is going on?"

Dahlia paused, turning back to glance over at the man who had recently turned out to be her uncle. They stood in the middle of a forest, overgrown and wild. A place of myth and fairytales. This place had stolen both their childhoods, but it was also the only reason Dahlia was alive. If this fairytale land didn't exist, she wouldn't have been born.

"I have as much idea of what's going on as you do, John."

"That guy you were talking to. Maxwell? Do you trust him?"

She crossed her arms. That was a good question. She knew she wanted to. His explanation cleared up so many things, but so had the conversation with the shadow who she completely did _not_ trust.

Finally, she shrugged. "Maybe not. Yriaf—I mean Maxwell—has kept a lot of information from me, but he's never outright lied to me. I may not know a lot about him, but I think I've known him long enough to know what kind of person he is. To a certain point, yes, I trust him."

Not waiting for his response, she turned and continued walking.

"So, what now? Are you going with Peter's plan?"

"Plan?" Dahlia perked up, thinking he was talking about Pan's request for her to destroy his heart, a problem she had yet to solve.

"You know, lure Smith to the island and find the heart. Whatever their crazy plan was."

She took a deep sigh of relief. He wasn't talking about that then. "I assume we are still going to find Pan's heart. However, no, we are certainly not luring Smith anywhere. In fact, considering Maxwell's final sentence, I have a feeling that Smith is going to be receiving an unwanted guest quite soon. I'd dearly love to see the face-off, but right now we don't have time."

A gunshot sounded in the distance.

Dahlia froze.

"What was that?" John questioned, as if expecting that Dahlia would actually know what a random gunshot might mean.

Distant shouts followed, too far away to be heard clearly.

She whacked John's arm. "Follow me and be quiet."

"You actually are planning on approaching whatever is going on?"

Dahlia ignored him and moved forward, as quietly as humanly possible over crunchy leaves. By the slight crunching sound behind her, she guessed John was behind her. As they hurried along in the shadows of the massive trees, more shouts and gunshots could be heard. She wasn't sure, but she doubted the Lost Boys had guns, which meant it must be someone shooting at them. And that was never a good sign.

Finally, Dahlia caught sight of movement through the thick bush. Coming to a halt, she turned and grabbed John's arm, pulling him down into a crouch and placing a finger over her mouth to tell him to be quiet. Luckily, he did.

She moved forward, keeping low to the ground.

As they neared the movement, she picked up a clear voice shouting in a tone that sounded entirely too familiar.

"Get all of them down. Shoot them if you must. But don't let them get away."

Dahlia stopped behind a tree close to the voice, and carefully moved her head to peek around the side of the bark. John leaned behind her, trying to catch sight of the action too.

Internally, she swore.

Instead of expecting Smith shooting up into the trees, Dahlia stared at the pirates surrounding a small clearing. In the center stood the number one nemesis of Pan himself: Captain James Hook. Directly in front of him, tied in tight ropes, sat several of the Lost Boys on the ground. How he had managed to catch them wasn't clear.

Dahlia squinted up into the trees, trying to see any movement in the leaves. The pirates were patrolling the grounds around the clearing, shooting towards anything that moved, taking out mostly birds or shooting only leaves. She clenched her fists. What kind of morons shot birds just to try to catch a bunch of boys? She wasn't one of those people obsessively against hunting birds, but this was just ridiculous.

"Boy!" Hook shouted up into the trees, his gun directed up to the trees around him. "Why don't you come out and face me? I'm sick of this chase. Today, our fight ends. You hear me, boy!"

No sound responded say for one of the pirates shooting down yet another bird. Dahlia face-palmed at their stupidity.

Hook lowered his gun. "Fine, let's try this." He turned his gun towards the nearest Lost Boy. Dahlia didn't know his name, but she recalled the boy's face from earlier at dinner. "Either you come out and face me, or I shoot this boy's brains out."

Dahlia shivered. This was getting darker than the original yet again. She glanced up again, trying to see through the leaves to see Pan. He must be up there. She didn't realize she was clenching her fists too tightly until her knuckles were white with lack of blood flow. Despite her focus on what was happening, all she could do was not want Pan to come out. With how angry Hook looked, he certainly would just kill Pan. But then again, did the now mortal boy have a choice with one of the Lost Boy's lives in danger?

"No, Peter!" The boy who now had a gun pointed in his face shouted loudly. "Don't worry about me."

Just then, a figure dropped down in the center of the pirates and all guns turned on him. Slowly, Pan rose up, grinning at Hook.

"Well, well, Captain Hook." Pan's voice was dangerously silky. He opened his arms. "I'm here. Now let my boys go."

Dahlia blinked. She had never seen it outside of movies. Love. Not the romantic, made-up love demonstrated by Hollywood. No, the idea that one loved someone enough to sacrifice their life for them. She had always seen the Lost Boys and Pan as being simply crazy kids. Maybe Willy was right. Maybe she didn't really understand them. Loyalty and self-sacrifice. This wasn't a group of boys; this was a band of brothers.

Despite the situation, Dahlia smiled. The smile, however, quickly vanished as Hook turned his gun on Pan. He cocked the hammer of the flint pistol.

Dahlia rose quickly, and John grabbed her.

"What are you doing?" He whispered fiercely.

She turned to him. "Protecting what I care about."

Wrenching her grip from his hand, Dahlia hurried forward between the pirates standing in a circle. Before Hook pulled the trigger, Dahlia moved in front of Pan.

Hook paused. "What the—"

"Lia!" Pan's hands grabbed her arm, trying to push her out of the way.

Dahlia stood firm. He wasn't that much bigger than her and she was a black belt. "Hook, before you shoot that gun, listen to me. Right now, we have bigger concerns than your little feud with Pan. This island is dying and it's because Pan doesn't have his heart. Which means that, if the island dies, all of us die. That captain whose ship you attacked. His name is Smith. He wants to get Pan's heart to gain eternal life. Then he'll take that heart back to his world—my world—and then all of us die."

Hook didn't pull the trigger. However, he didn't lower the gun either. "Why would I trust you, wench? You are the one who released Pan's shadow on my ship. The moment Pan gets his heart back, he's powerful again."

"Exactly. Then you go back to how you've always been. An endless battle. You think either of you will ever win? If anyone wins, it's going to the croc."

The pirate captain growled. "How do you know about that?"

"Because I know your story as well as I know mine. Listen to me, if Smith gets the heart, we die. If we get the heart, things are back to the way they are before. Which would you prefer: the guarantee of death or the possibility of death? You are no fool, Captain. So think carefully and decide." Dahlia finished her speech and stood glaring at him.

Hook's gun dropped several centimeters as his blow furrowed. He was thinking: she could tell.

Just then, rustling came from the side of the clearing. Everyone glanced over as Smith himself entered, along with a dozen or so soldiers. Every single one of their guns were raised, pointing at the pirates, who moved quickly out of their circle and into a line between Hook and the approaching soldiers.

Dahlia turned back to Hook. "Hook, please!"

Captain Hook glanced at her and then turned towards Smith.

Smith smirked. "Well, well, what is happening here?" He surveyed the clearing. "Captain Hook, a pleasure to see you again.

Hook merely grunted.

Maxwell's ex-employee glanced towards Dahlia and Pan. "And you have Pan. Brilliant. Isn't it time for us to work together? We both have the same enemy." Smith gestured towards Pan. "Try to kill him now, if you want, but it's not possible. Give him to me, and I'll find his heart and be able to kill him for good."

Dahlia bit her lip. This was not good. She glanced at Hook, wondering who he would choose to believe. She didn't even bother making her case again. Hook was no fool, and his decision would be his own.

Finally the pirate captain shrugged and walked away from Pan and Dahlia. The pirates walked with him, moving out of the way for Smith to reach Pan.

Dahlia clenched her fists. Damn. Just great.

Smith approached Pan, his gun raised. "Finally, boy, you have nowhere to run."

She shifted in front of Pan again. "Smith, don't do this. What can you gain with eternal life? Seeing everyone die and never being able to age? What kind of life is that?"

Not stopping his movement, Smith grinned at her. "Miss Getz, I suggest you move out of my way. Pan may not be able to die without his heart, but you can."

"Smith!"

Before Dahlia could move, John Darling raced into the clearing and moved in between Smith and her.

"If you kill her, you'll have to kill me first."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Oh, for heaven sakes, John. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

John glanced back at her, smiling. "Protecting what _I_ care about." His words mirrors hers from just moments before. "You are the only family I have left."

Dahlia blinked, not sure how to respond.

Out of nowhere, a gun was placed on the side of Smith's head.

Everyone turned in shock as the pirates surrounded Smith's men and Hook cocked his gun again against Smith's temple.

"Just because I moved," Hook growled. "Did not mean I said I was on your side."

Finally, all the players stood in the same space. Now, the fight would begin.


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note: Again, thanks for all the great reviews. I know I've said this a hundred times, but you guys are the reason I feel motivated to keep uploading this story. Anyway, I don't have much to say about this chapter, but there is something I wanted to let you guys know about. This morning I got a Guest review that starts with: "** **Hey good fanfic so how about you see and join these Wikia, follow these links but remove the spaces first." The message continued with some website links. First of all, if guests send in these type of messages, I will delete them. I do not believe it is right to advertise on someone's story, whether it is an actual website or a scam. I have gotten several before this-most of which I deleted. If you want to advertise something in my reviews or want to me to mention your story or website, message me first. DO NOT use the reviews to advertise things without my permission. I do not like it and I will delete it or ignore it. I love reviews and reviews are a brilliant way to get the writer to understand how readers feel about the story. Not only does it help me decide if I should change or work on anything, but it also helps motivate me. When someone leaves comments merely advertising, it takes away from the quality of reviews. And I'm the type of person who loves any kind of reviews, even if it's one-word-reviews or flaming criticism. However, if you aren't commenting on the story, take your advertising somewhere else.**

 **Alright, after that long rant, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. Also, for those living in America, Happy Early Thanksgiving! See you all next week!**

28.

" 'Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?' 'Nothing, precious,' she said; 'they are the eyes a mother leaves behind her to guard her children.' " – J. M. Barrie

The cold wind hit Dahlia like a brick wall. How could there be such a difference between the warmer air on the island and the chilling wind on the sea?

It had been two hours since Dahlia had laid eyes on the infamous Captain Hook again. In that time, the pirates had tied up Smith's men and led them and the Lost Boys away to the Jolly Roger. A select pirates, however, stayed surrounding Smith, Pan, John and Dahlia—all of which had their hands tied behind their backs. When the commotion had died down, Hook requested Pan lead the way.

Dahlia had glanced at him, hoping the Pan would lead Hook on a goose chase around the island. But, instead, he had said matter-a-factly, "It's on Skull Island."

Why he had told where his heart was did not make sense to Dahlia, but she didn't interrupt and just followed as Hook moved them out to the cove and packed them into a small dingy.

Currently, they were rowing towards the island. Dahlia made sure she was aware where everyone was. On the first bench in the front, Hook had decided to keep Pan close to him, probably to keep an eye on him. In the second row, two pirates were doing the actual rowing. In the third row, Dahlia had been placed right next to Smith—a less than ideal situation—and in the final row were two more pirates with John squished in between them.

Dahlia glanced at Smith. He hadn't said a word since Hook had pointed his gun at him. Since she doubted it was because he was afraid, she assumed he had some other motive. Perhaps he knew that, by staying with Hook, he might find Pan's heart. Either way, he sat stiffly beside her with his mouth in a thin line and his eyes directed towards the island far ahead of them.

Odds were, both her and Pan could probably take six men if they were untied and Pan wasn't sick. She didn't count on John at all. As it was, though, Dahlia couldn't help but think there was nothing they could do. She remembered when Pan had fought the two captains on the boat earlier. It didn't look like he could handle even those two. Though, even if he could, that left the four pirates to Dahlia and she had no idea if she could beat them.

She turned, trying to see back on the island. Most of the Lost Boys were free, which meant they might be of some help. However, since they couldn't fly, how were they supposed to reach Skull Island? Dahlia sighed and faced forward again.

Raising her voice, she called to Hook, "What do you plan to do once you get Pan's heart?"

Hook glanced back at her. "Destroy it, of course."

Dahlia felt Smith stiffen even more next to her. That was the last thing he probably wanted.

She pressed on. "I thought I explained to you that, if you destroy Pan's heart, this island dies."

"So you say. But why should I trust either you or that pompous prig next to you?" Hook's description of Smith almost made Dahlia laugh, but she held it in since this probably wasn't the time for humor. Hook continued, "You just want to help the boy, and that captain clearly wants to help himself. So right now, I wouldn't believe a word either of you say."

Dahlia clenched her fists, both of which were still tied behind her back. "Come on, haven't you noticed it. Pan isn't flying anymore and—"

"Oh, I believe Pan's lost his powers," Hook interrupted. "And it has caused different weather patterns. However, that does not mean that Neverland will die if Pan's heart dies."

Dahlia bit her lip. She wasn't sure whether to tell Hook about Pan's shadow or how much power it actually held over the island. Well, she didn't entirely understand it herself, so how could she tell Hook about it.

"I can pay you a handsome amount for this boy's heart." Dahlia jumped at Smith's voice beside her. It was soft, almost seductive, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Hook let out a laugh. "I don't trust this girl, so why would I trust scum like you. Shut up or I'll throw you overboard for the croc to eat."

Dahlia didn't laugh. However, she did glance at the water below her, listening carefully for the tick-tock that announced Hook's second greatest adversary. However, the crocodile was nowhere in hearing or seeing distance. But Dahlia continued to gaze into the water for one more moment.

She hadn't been able to look in a mirror for weeks, but two weeks without a shower had taken its toll on her. She wasn't extraordinarily dirty—possibly because the boys had kept her mostly clean while she was unconscious. However, her hair was oily and pieces of hair had come out of her tight braid. There were dark rings around her eyes, and her brown eyes looked slightly bloodshot. She could even see a zit or two which had sprung up along her travels. Gosh, she would have to take a long bath when she got home.

Dahlia was about to look away from the water when she saw a flicker of something far below her. For a moment, she wasn't sure if she'd seen it. It looked like a dark shadow, traveling under the boat. She blinked. Just as it had appeared it was gone. It looked too big to be Pan's shadow, and she doubted it was a mermaid. Her memory recalled that, the day she had arrived on the island, John had said that he had seen a huge shadow save him. Could there be something lingering in the water that was unknown to all of them? This island, after all, was one big mystery.

"What are you doing?" A voice behind her asked.

Dahlia jumped and glanced behind her at John. She's forgotten he was sitting right behind her. She wanted to tell him what she thought she saw, but she couldn't with Smith and the pirates sitting around her.

Instead, she shook her head, "Nothing. Just noticing how dirty I look."

John let out a laugh. "I know how you feel. I feel like hell itself." He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if no one else could hear him, though they clearly could because they were right next to him. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "How about you quit with the false comfort." She turned back towards the front.

No one said another word until they reached the cove of the island. As the boat docked, Hook climbed out and dragged each of the four prisoners onto the scraggly rocks. One of the pirates stayed at the boat, while the rest took hold of each of the prisoners and they headed inside the massive skull.

Dahlia had always wondered what Skull Rock would look like. There were tons of pictures of it, of course, but to actually see its massive size in real life was jaw-dropping. The gigantic skull, probably about forty feet in height, stood tall and proud upon the craggily rocks. It looks as if the skull had been carved right out the rock itself.

They entered from the back, where a walkway led into the island. Their footsteps echoed on the path. Once inside, Hook stopped, his hand holding Pan's arm tightly. Pan, Dahlia had noticed, hadn't said a word since they were on the island. She worried about his health, but she couldn't do anything about it yet. She still hadn't formulated a plan.

Hook glanced around. The interior of the skull was almost a big lagoon with most of the area open to water. This must have been where, in the original book, Hook had left Pan to drown and where Pan had been saved by the mermaids.

"Where is it?" Hook demanded.

Everyone glanced around.

Hook turned to Pan, fire in his eyes. "Well, where is it?"

"I don't know," Pan said calmly, looking the pirate right in the eye.

"Really?" Hook's voice made it clear he didn't believe the boy. Without a pause, Hook slapped Pan hard across the face with the palm of his intact hand.

John gasped and Dahlia tried to move towards them, though the pirate holding her pulled her back.

The force pushed Pan backwards and he hit the rock wall behind him. A hiss of pain came from his lips, but he didn't flinch and struggled to stand up straight.

Hook didn't wait for the boy to steady his feet and pushed him again the wall again, his hand around the boy's neck and his hook against Pan's cheek. "Tell me where your heart is, boy, or I'll slit your face open."

Pan stared up at the pirate in defiance, his cheek slightly red from the blow. "I. Don't. Know."

Hook snorted. He glanced back at the rest of the party, his eyes landing on Dahlia.

"Mick, throw her in the water."

The pirate holding Dahlia didn't waste a moment, pushing her off the edge of the rock and into the freezing water below. It happened so quickly, Dahlia didn't have a chance to react. As she hit the water, the wind was knocked out of her and she couldn't breathe. Any voice she had was lost underwater. She kicked her feet, trying to propel her out of the water. But without her hands free, she didn't make it far.

She heard gurgled shouts above her, though they weren't clear. It sounded like Pan and John calling out her name, but she wasn't sure. Loud pounding in her ears soon drowned out all sound. The island was dimming. She couldn't even tell how deep she had sunk. She half expected the mermaids to pull her deeper or Hook's croc to eat her whole. Personally, that might be better than drowning.

A memory came back to her, a time when she was six years old and her mother had taken her to the community pool. Her mother had hated swimming, but she thought it important that her daughter learn the basics. At one point, Dahlia had lost hold of the floaty thing that kept her above the water and had sunk down. She had swum out to the deep end—she'd always been an adventurer—and she felt sure she was going to drown. She just starred through the water, and realized how peaceful it was down there. So calm. Then she had felt strong arms grab her and pull her out of the water.

She had looked around as the life guard handed her to her mother, who was sobbing by the side of the pool. According to her mother, the first words out of Dahlia's mouth had been, "Mommy, why didn't you let me stay? It was so peaceful down there."

Now, that memory drowned the past. That had been before her mother—well, now the woman she knew had been her aunt—had brought home the first boyfriend. Before Dahlia came secondary in her life. Before the downward spiral that led Dahlia to this moment. Right here. Drowning just like she had been thirteen years before. But there was no lifeguard to save her now.

A dark shadow fell across her.

Dahlia glanced up as the light faded more. Was she seeing things?

Her ears seemed to clear and she heard a soft voice singing.

" _My little princess, many dangers you will face_

" _Evil will break your soul like a shattered vase._

" _People will be cruel and tear at your heart_

" _But remember your fears are all for naught._

" _For I will be there holding your hand_

" _As we fly high above this magical land._

" _Never leave my side_

" _Unless I have died."_

The song repeated. It had been the same song she had heard in her dreams when she'd been unconscious for two weeks.

That voice, Dahlia wondered: whose was it?

Dahlia opened her mouth and formed one word slowly. "Mother."

She wasn't sure how she could speak in the water, but everything around her echoed with the sound of her voice. Now she was in pure darkness. She felt airy and light like she was still underwater, but she could breathe again.

"Lia…" A soft whisper echoed in the space.

Dahlia blinked and listened. She became aware of a soft dripping sound. Based and that and the echoes, Dahlia figured that she must be inside a cave. Her feet softly landed on hard rock. How she had gotten from drowning underwater to here was unclear, but she was hoping to find out.

She went down on her knees and tried to feel the ground around her. She was standing on rocks, but the moment she touched the rock she pulled her hands back. The floor was scalding hot, like sand heated by the sun. Heat? In her dream, the voice had mentioned that she was somewhere very hot. Is this what she was talking about?

"Where am I?" Dahlia voiced out loud.

A soft like flicked somewhere in the distance. Dahlia squinted her eyes, trying to see it. When no one answered her question, she moved forward towards the light. As she grew closer, she realized it was coming from the top of an intricately designed stand, on which the flickering light sat. What was this light?

Dahlia finally reached the stand and looked down.

On the pedestal sat a small, beating heart.

After all this time, here was Pan's heart.


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's note: I can't believe we're almost done with this story. It seems like forever since I started it, but it's only been a few months. Again, thank you everyone for your amazing comments. There's only a couple chapters left. As always, let me know what you guys think and thank you are all the support. See you next week!**

29.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder...or forgetful." – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia reached down gently, cradling the small heart in her hands. It was so tiny: the heart of a child. It beat softly, vibrating in her hand. This little thing was what all the fuss was about. All the pain and violence had been caused by this minuscule object. People had lost their lives for this. Dahlia wondered if it was worth it.

"Lia."

Dahlia glanced up at the female voice, dazed. Her eyes caught sight of a small figure floating towards her. Dahlia blinked, recognition dawning as a face so much like her own came to stand beside her.

"Wendy?" Dahlia could barely utter the words, starring at the blond woman before her.

The woman merely smiled. Dahlia could see now why everyone was saying they looked alike. Wendy was more fragile and small, but she shared Dahlia's nose, mouth, chin, and eyes.

"Lia, the time has come." The women's voice was a mere whisper, and yet it echoed against the walls of this magical, timeless cave.

"The time has come for what?" Questions grew in Dahlia's mind. She had so much to ask, and yet the shock of seeing this spirit of her birth mother was just too overwhelming.

Wendy continued, "You must make a decision. Will you save Peter or will you choose to kill Pan's shadow?"

Dahlia blinked. "How do you know all this?"

"I have been watching you. From the moment you arrived on the pirate's boat, I could sense you. When you fell into the ocean, it was I who saved you. But I could not touch you on the island. The shadow is too powerful there. So I waited and watched. I understand so much now that I did not understand when Maxwell took you."

Feeling at a loss for words, Dahlia felt almost calmed by the gentle beat of Pan's heart in her hand. "Wendy, how did you come to be on this island?"

"Some people say the soul goes where it longs to go the most. I had unfinished business here, you see. And I hoped that Patrick would find his way here too. But he did not. I alone have waited here, watching for when you would return. Maxwell promised me you would."

Dahlia clenched her fist. "Really?" Why was she not surprised? It explained why Yriaf had been so anxious to see her do this mission before her retirement. At least he could have had the decency to tell her. "But where is this place? I was falling in the water and then I just appeared here."

Wendy turned and gestured around the cave, her ethereal white gown glistening in the air. "This is a place out of time and space. It is the only place where Pan's heart would be safe. The shadow cannot reach us here, because this place does not exist on the same plain of reality."

"If so, how did I get here?"

"Patrick created this place. He was brilliant, my Patrick. He spoke of creating a transporter which could travel to different dimensions. He wanted to save the island, but he couldn't. Time would eventually waste away on all things and the shadow would destroy Neverland. And yet, by stealing Pan's heart, but hiding it here inside this place, it slowed down the process of destruction."

Dahlia had a lot to process. First, Patrick had created the transporter. Well, she supposed Yriaf never actually told her who had invented it, but at least he should have told her when he'd dropped by in Neverland what Patrick had done. He had made it seem as if her father was just a worker of LEA, not the creator. Second, "Wait, you mean Pan's heart disappearing hasn't been the reason the island is dying."

Wendy shook her head. "Indeed, no. This place, Lia, is a dream. And no dream can last forever. The shadow creates many worlds, but even he does not have to power to suspend time forever."

"So…even if I give Pan back his heart, it won't save the island." The cold realization dawned on her. "If I destroy the heart, the shadow will die, but so will Pan. Wendy, what should I do?" Unbidden, tears sprung up in her eyes. Dahlia was so tired. She just wanted to fix things, but how could she when there seemed to be not solution. "All I want is a happy ending. The happy ending that I never got."

Wendy's face darkened and she took a step forward. Delicately, her slightly glowing fingers touched Dahlia's face, wiping her tears away. "Oh, my child, what have I done to you? I abandoned you, hoping to give you a better life. Maxwell promised to keep you safe, and yet here you stand before me, a wounded deer who has never learned to love."

Dahlia bit her lip to try to hold back the tears, but she couldn't. Instead, her burst into tears. Gently, Wendy took her in her arms and hugged her tightly. Dahlia couldn't remember when she had truly been hugged by anyone…except for Pan. Thinking of him made her cry even harder. She could not save him. She could not save anyone. All those Lost Boys who had simply welcomed her into their dysfunctional home without asking for anything in return. The Indians who were as much victims as the Lost Boys were. Hook and his pirates, who had done nothing wrong but fight a childish war with a mere kid. Smith, who could only see his lust for eternity and not how many people his quest hurt. They were all people who had just as much right to live has she did.

Finally Dahlia had cried all the tears she had inside her and Wendy led her to sit on a rock. Dahlia still held the small heart in her hand. "What do I do?"

Wendy shook her head, gently patting her daughter on her back. "I cannot tell you want to do. I am merely a ghost, a shadow of my former self. This decision is yours to make."

"Is there not a way to save everyone?"

"Perhaps. If so, I do not know it."

Dahlia shook her head. She pulled her bag around and opened it. Nothing was destroyed. Even the empty scroll was still in her bag. The only thing missing was her transporter which was still in Smith's possession. Taking the scroll out of the smaller bag, she placed Pan's heart gently inside and zipped it shut. She just wanted to make sure it was protected. As she was doing this, Wendy leaned forward and gently touched the scroll.

"Where did you get this?" Wendy asked, starring at the scroll as if it were some priceless relic.

Dahlia glanced at it. "What? This? It's just an empty scroll. Yriaf…I mean Maxwell, sent me to get it. It was on Hook's boat behind a fake wall. Why? What is it?" Since Dahlia had first learned that the scroll was empty, she had been wondering why Yriaf had sent her to get it.

Tears flew to Wendy's eyes as her fingers gently touched the page. "This…this is Patrick's. I thought it was lost. After he left for the war, I could never find it. But here it is. Another piece to the puzzle." She let out a cold laugh. "My Patrick was ingenious, wasn't he?"

"What is it, Wendy?" Dahlia demanded, taken aback by her mother's strange reaction.

Wendy looked up at Dahlia. "Your solution, my little one."

"My solution?"

"You wish to save Pan and everyone on Neverland, and yet you wish to destroy the shadow. This is a piece of a puzzle Patrick was carefully putting together."

"Puzzle. What puzzle? Was Patrick trying to do what I'm trying to do?"

Wendy laughed again, this time warmly. "You know, you may have my face, but you have Patrick's heart. He was going to fix everything. He told me. And yet he ran out of time. If we had stayed, the shadow would have killed my brothers and me. It is funny. Did Patrick know you would come and finish his mission?"

Dahlia's thoughts went back to Yriaf's words about Patrick: _"He said he hadn't been able to finish things. He mentioned that he had had to make a choice between saving Wendy and saving Peter, and that he'd chosen Wendy."_ She turned back to her mother. "But what was Patrick's vision? If this is one piece to the puzzle, what are the others?"

Wendy shook her head. "I never fully understood it. I was a young girl when Patrick explained it to me." She closed her eyes, and started to recite an interesting grocery list, "The heart of a boy, saturated with a shadow's kiss. A scroll white as snow, evil in disguise. The soul of a lover, risking life for life. The will of a creature broken between two worlds, but never a part of one." Wendy opened her eyes and turned to Dahlia. "Those are the pieces."

Dahlia blinked. Pan's heart and the scroll were obvious. The other two, though, weren't so clear. For the fourth one, it almost sounded as if Patrick was talking about her: a creature broken between two worlds. But how could he know she would be born? And who was the soul of a lover, risking life for life?

"Lia!"

Dahlia jumped at the echoed, distant voice in the cave. Pan's voice. "What the hell?" Where was it coming from? She couldn't see him in the cave.

Wendy let out a laugh. "Go back, Lia. Go back and finish your father's plan. I cannot help you anymore." She reached out to stroke Dahlia's cheek. "But remember, even when you cannot see me, I will always be by your side."

Dahlia looked towards her mother.

Wendy gently took the scroll in her hands and placed into the zit-lock bag with Pan's heart. Then, she placed the bag inside Dahlia's larger bag. Dahlia made no move to stop her.

Suddenly, Dahlia's vision became more blurry. She couldn't fully make out her mother anymore. Wendy's face went from being blurry to blending completely into the darkness. Finally, everything became dark around her.

"Lia!"

Dahlia opened her eyes, gasping. She sat straight up, clinging for breath that suddenly seemed nonexistent.

She glanced around, just in time to see Pan pull her into his arms, hugging her tightly. In another second, Hook grasped Pan by the back of his collar and pulled him away from her.

"She's alright now, boy." Hook sounded perturbed and a bit anxious.

Dahlia looked around her. She was back on Skull Island, her clothing soaking wet. It was as if the cave was entirely a dream. She blinked, glancing at the faces crowded around her. The pirates, Hook, Smith, John, Pan. Everyone looked the same as when she was thrown into the water.

"What happened?" Dahlia murmured hoarsely, finally gaining back her breath.

"You almost died, that's what happened!" John exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Hook. "This fool thought it was a good idea to throw you in the water."

Dahlia glanced over at Hook, who refused to look directly at her. Maybe he felt a bit guilty. Her eyes moved over to Pan, who she realized was just as wet as her.

"You saved me?" Her words were addressed to Pan.

John, however, was the one who answered. "It was amazing. Peter hit Hook in the stomach and just jumped in after you. When he brought you up, you weren't breathing. I thought you were dead, Dahlia! But Pan did something really weird. He just kept pushing on your ribs. It was so strange! But then you spit up water and woke up. I mean, it was incredible!"

Dahlia rolled her eyes and slowly climbed to her feet, slightly dizzy. Luckily, a pirate was there to grab her arm, which helped her steady herself. "I'm glad my near-death experience was amusing to you." She glanced at Pan. "Thank you."

Pan looked away and merely shook his head.

"Well, now that that's over, are you ready to tell me where the heart is?" Hook's voice was dangerously angry. "Or do I need to throw this wench in the water again?"

The focus turned away from Dahlia and onto Pan. It gave Dahlia time to wonder whether her dream was real or not. Carefully, making sure the pirate holding her was distracted, she opened her bag and glanced inside.

Thump, thump.

She stared down at Pan's glowing heart, the scroll beside it. It had not been a dream. Dahlia closed the bag quickly. She had two pieces, possibly three. She just needed the last piece.

Loud clapping echoed in the cave before Dahlia could decide what to do.

All the people glanced up, as a shadow settled over them.

Pan's shadow flew before them, as thousands of other shadows slunk out of the shadows, surrounding the party completely.

"What the bloody hell!" Hook exclaimed as the pirates drew their swords.

Pan's shadow reached near the ground and stopped several yards for the party. His voice came out the same as when Dahlia had last heard it.

"It is time. You all wish for something." He gestured his shadowy hand towards Smith. "You wish for eternal life. Will you willingly give up everything for it?" He turned to Hook. "You wish to destroy a boy. Will you risk your life?" He turned to John. "You wish to revenge your friend. Will you kill Neverland to do so?" He turned to Pan. "You wish to destroy me. Will you sacrifice the girl you love to kill me?" He finally turned to Dahlia. "You wish for happiness. If you succeed in your plan, will it truly give you the happiness you so crave?"

Dahlia clenched her fists.

Pan's shadow moved towards Dahlia, but addressed everyone. "This girl has the puzzle piece to all your desires." He formed his hand as if he was choking someone and, before Dahlia could react, she found herself quickly rising in the air.

She let out a screech as she came to rest equal to the shadow, twenty feet in the air.

"Dahlia!" John exclaimed from below her.

Thump! Thump!

The heartbeat of Pan's heart grew louder.

"What is that sound?" Hook demanded.

"The little alien has a secret," Pan's shadow announced, slowly floating around Dahlia.

Dahlia felt her heart beating faster in panic. She wasn't exactly afraid of heights, but being suspended in the air without anything to hold unto was terrifying.

"What have you done, Lia." Pan's voice sounded forced below her.

At the same moment, Smith announced, "She has Pan's heart!"

Pan's shadow came to float in front of her, stopping mere inches from her face. His voice lowered. "You cannot stop me, little one. This is my island and you play by my rules. In the end, you will all fade into oblivion and I shall remain. Now, let the games begin."

He released his hand front the choking position, and Dahlia felt herself fall towards the earth. Again, she was falling.


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's note: Hi, guys! Another week, another chapter. There's only going to be one or two chapters after this one, so this is really near the end (*sniff). Anyway, as always, thank you for all the amazing support. I did want to address one of the guest reviewers (because I can't personally send them a message). To AnnabethInWonder, first, thank you for the amazing reviews. Also, the reason guest reviews don't get added immediately to my reviews is because they take twenty-four hours to show up (I believe) unless I approve them manually. So I can delete guest comments that I don't like (like those who are just advertising, as I mentioned before) or I can fast-approve them. So that's why you're first review didn't show up immediately. Anyway, let me know what you guys think and I'll see you all next week!**

30.

"Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting." – J. M. Barrie

Dahlia refused to shut her eyes as chilled air whizzed past her. She was sick of falling, sick of being tossed around between the different powers in Neverland. Between Hook, Smith, Pan's shadow, and even to some extant Pan himself. It wasn't that she wasn't used to being ordered around by other people or told what she should or shouldn't do; it was just that it grew tiring when it was such a drastic pull in such a short time.

Everything froze.

Literally.

Dahlia glanced around, realizing she was suspended in the air, frozen in time. Down below her, most of the people were jumping forward to either catch her or grab her bag. She tried to move her hands, but they seemed unresponsive.

"What the hell!" Smith's voice exclaimed from below.

Dahlia attempted to turn her head far enough to see him, though this was made difficult by the fact that she couldn't control anything under her neck.

Smith seemed in her same position, glancing around anxiously while his body was frozen into place. Glancing up, he demanded, "What have you done?"

"She didn't do anything."

Dahlia again tried to find the speaker, though in an instant she recognized the voice. Her boss Yriaf walked delicately towards the horde of people, clipping his walking stick on the ground. As usual, he was perfectly clean, contrasting him greatly to the dirty group before him.

Smith stared in horror for a moment, and then quickly replaced his expression with smugness. "Maxwell, what an unpleasant surprise! Don't tell me you came to rescue your little damsel in distress."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "I'm not a damsel, dummy."

Both men ignored her.

Yriaf bowed his head. "I don't think you are in the position to make insults, Xander. Right now, you and I have some business. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to take you back to New York with me, where you will face criminal charges for theft, arson, and murder."

Dahlia blinked. What was Yriaf talking about?

Yriaf walked forward, slowly moving to search Smith's suit. Finally, he pulled out two things from his pocket, one of which was Dahlia's transporter and the other of which looked like another transporter. It must have been what Smith used to bring himself there.

Yriaf shoved Dahlia's transporter in his pocket. Then he turned back to Smith and fiddled with the device for a moment, finally placing it around Smith's wrist.

"Old friend, I'm tired," Yriaf commented while he worked. "Aren't you? Isn't it exhausted, living only for your own selfishness? Doesn't it get lonely sometimes?"

"Go to hell, you…" Dahlia chose not to listen to the rest of Smith's colorful sentence.

Yriaf just gently patted Smith on the back and leaned forward to press the transporter. "See you in the real world."

The moment Yriaf took a step back, Smith vanished out of existence. When he was gone, Yriaf turned and nodded to Dahlia.

"Is he permanently gone?" Dahlia asked.

Yriaf bowed his head. "That man is no longer part of this world. I would offer to send you home as well, but I imagine you have a few threads to tie up before you leave. Drop by once you decide, would you? Jay misses you." With a flicker of a smile on his face, Yriaf turned and vanished.

The moment he was gone, everything unfroze.

Dahlia had gotten so used to being suspended in the air that she wasn't prepared for the sudden rush of air as she continued her fall to the ground. She expected to crash on the rocks in an instant.

Arms wrapped around her and she felt herself pushed over…back into the water.

Dahlia couldn't see anything, but she could feel arms tugging her along. Not down, though. Every once in a while, they'd surface and she'd gasp for air. Finally, the fourth time they surfaced, they didn't go back under. Instead, the arms dragged her unto the hard, rocky surface.

"Pan!" Distant shouts called from far away.

"Lia," a whispered voice from beside her asked.

Dahlia glanced up as rocks stabbed into her back.

Pan crawled up beside her.

Dahlia struggled to sit up. It appeared they were across the lagoon and on the other side of the inner island.

"What were you thinking?"

Instead of answering, Pan pulled out a knife.

"Wow! What are you doing?" Dahlia leaned back, not sure what he was planning to do.

"Lia, destroy the heart."

Dahlia blinked. She'd forgotten for a moment what was happening after what had occurred with Smith. She glanced down at her bag, in which the heart still sat. Then she glanced back up at Pan.

"No! Things have changed. I talked to Wendy's ghost." From around the lagoon, the other men were making their way around towards Pan and her. She didn't have much time. "Listen to me. Wendy said that there was another way. Patrick was planning it. She said it had to do with a four things." Dahlia closed her eyes to recite it. "The heart of a boy, saturated with a shadow's kiss. A scroll white as snow, evil in disguise. The soul of a lover, risking life for life. The will of a creature broken between two worlds, but never a part of one." She reached into her bag and pulled out the zip-lock container holding the heart and scroll." We have three of those: this scroll, your heart, and me. We just have to figure out the final one quickly."

Pan shook his head, as if trying to fully comprehend her words. He didn't question her. In fact, he didn't have any reaction. He just stared off in a vague direction, not focusing on anything.

"Pan?" Dahlia waved a hand in front of his face. "We have to hurry!"

Peter Pan glanced at her. From behind him, she could stop Hook, the pirates, and John racing towards them. It would only be a moment before they reached them.

Without warning, Pan reached up and touched her face. "I love you. You know that, right?"

Dahlia blinked, taken aback. Her heart started to beat louder. What was he talking about? "This is hardly the time!"

Pan pulled her close and kissed her forehead gently. It was so soft, like a butterfly's whisper. He looked down at her, but didn't move away. "Do you trust me?"

Dahlia gripped her fists. For once in her life, she was honest.

"Yes."

Pan gripped the knife and plunged it into the heart.

A scream from all around them shattered the air as the world shook.

Dahlia shrieked as everything faded into oblivion.


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's note: Only one more chapter left! Exciting! I can't think of anything new to say. I'm in finals week in college right now, so I'm exhausted and not entirely coherent. I have to write yet another paper again today, so I'll be brief. As always, thank you for all the great reviews. Let me know what you guys think and I'll see you all next week for the finale!**

31.

"Just always be waiting for me." – J. M. Barrie

Reality is a very relative thing, Dahlia had decided. Nothing moved in a perfect, predictable orbit. The idea that the future could be predicted was a fool's errand. Dahlia had learned this time and time again in her nineteen years. Who would have known that her reality would be so chaotic, and death would be a mainstay in her sight. And yet here she was, at the end of a world that was not even supposed to exist.

The moment Pan pierced his heart with the metal knife it felt as if the world fell away into oblivion. Colors bled into each other as clarity became one big, vague glow. The chaos of movement and space paused as time seemed to stop. This was the end, wasn't it? After everything Dahlia had tried to do to save Neverland, the threads of her plan slowly unraveled in one moment.

She felt emotions overwhelm her. She was angry towards Pan for choosing this fate for so many people. Sadness was there as well, a constant reminder that she had failed. Acceptance finally settled over her with the realization that she could have done nothing to stop what had happened. Pan had made his choice. It was his dream to never grow up, that caused this problem to begin with and he had tried to fix it in the only way he knew how.

Finally, Dahlia blinked. She didn't feel dead. Maybe death felt this way, like liberation mixed with a dash of regret. No, she could still move. Flashing light beamed into her eyes, causing her to squint. Nothing seemed real anymore. Her surroundings seemed nothing but a vague rainbow of colors all mixed together to give the realm a sort of puke brown color.

In the distance, a mass of shapes seemed to spring up. Without any other direction to go to, she walked towards them. After a moment, she realized they weren't just strange masses of color. Instead, they appeared to be some sort of portals. There were four of them, all side by side in the brown mush of reality. As she approached them, she realized that each of them showed a wavering picture of a different reality.

One appeared to be so foggy she could not see anything. Another was blurry, but she could just make out a scene of a city, looking like something out of the Victorian Era. Victorian London, perhaps. The third was another city, and yet this city looked very familiar…it was New York City. The fourth showed blackness as this portal wavered more than the rest.

Loud, echoing footsteps sounded from around her. Dahlia turned in surprise to watch as every single person in Neverland stepped towards her. All the pirates, all of Smith's men, all the Native Americans, all of the Lost Boys. Even John and Hook were there. As Dahlia scanned the many faces, she noticed one person who was missing.

Peter Pan.

John stepped forward. "Dahlia, are you alright? It was crazy. Suddenly there was all this light and sound and then we ended up here. Are we dead?"

Dahlia shook her head, glancing down at her body. She was wearing the same clothes. Everything looked the same. "I don't think so. I think we're nowhere."

Willy stepped forward. "What happened? Where is Peter?"

Dahlia just kept shaking her head, feeling unwanted tears spring up in her eyes. "I—I think he might be dead. He destroyed his heart."

"What!" Hook exclaimed, pushing John out of the way to get nearer to Dahlia. "What the bloody hell was that twat thinking? He's killed us all!"

"You're not dead." A voice echoed all around them, seeming to come from the walls themselves.

Everyone was murmuring to themselves as everyone glanced around anxiously. A soft light came from between the two center portals as a figure moves into view.

John was the first to speak as the figure drew nearer. "Wendy!"

All the sounds of murmuring fell away. Wendy looked just as she did when Dahlia had seen her in the cave, a ghostly figure spreading her arms towards them.

"This place does not exist on our plain of reality," she proclaimed loudly. "It is where those who belong to no world go when they have been misplaced. Before you are four portals, each to a different world. This first one—" She pointed towards the misty one, "—is what was once Neverland. What once was a dream in a boy's head is now only mist. If you take this path, you die along with the island. This one—" She pointed to the Victorian England portal, "—Is Peter Pan's London, where most of you will find a new home. This third one is another reality of New York City where one of you once lived." She glanced poignantly towards Dahlia. "And finally, this black portal is the shadow's land. This one will also result in death. Everyone, make your choice."

The room burst out into a sea of confusion. Many of the pirates turned to Hook for directions. The Native Americans turned towards their chief. The Lost Boys began whispering among themselves. It was only the few surviving members of Smith's men who immediately, without question, raced inside the second portal and vanished.

Dahlia's eyes centered on her mother in all the confusion. "Where is Pan?"

Wendy's finger turned to point at the black portal. "He is there, on the edge of the shadow's land."

"I thought you said that one will end in death? Does that mean he's dead?"

"No!" Willy exclaimed. "He can't be dead."

Wendy ignored the Lost Boy, keeping her eyes on Dahlia. "Peter's reality is shattered. His heart is in pieces, but there is still hope. Someone must lead him back to find a new reality. You hold all the pieces to saving him."

Dahlia blinked. "What? I only hold two now. The heart is gone."

"No, that is not what I meant. Those pieces were to save Neverland. It is too late for Neverland now. Peter has chosen to tear apart his connection to the dream world. He was willing to die to stop a great evil, and that is the reason he can still be saved. He is inside that portal, slowly dying. Someone may attempt to save him, but it is tricky. Death will likely be the result to venturing through that portal."

"I'll go." Willy took a step forward, looking just about ready to brave the dangers for his friend. Luckily, Dahlia thought quickly and grabbed his arm.

"Hold up there, kid."

Willy turned to her. "Let me go. You don't care about Pan. You never have. I've been with him for years. He's my best friend. I would die for him. Now, let go!"

As Willy struggled to free himself, Dahlia twisted his arm around and held it against his back. "Don't even try it. I'm a black belt. Now, listen to me."

She turned to the people in the room. "Everyone, go through the Victorian England portal. It's the best option for survival." She loosened her grip on Willy. "If anyone is going in the save Pan, it will be me."

"No!" John stepped forward. "Wendy, stop her! Dahlia, you can't. You'll die."

Wendy didn't attempt to speak and simply watched her daughter with a glint in her eye.

Dahlia shrugged. "I once had a conversation with Pan about death. He asked me if I was afraid to die and I told him I really wasn't. The fact of the matter is that life is unpredictable. If I go back to New York and forget about this, I very well might cross the street tomorrow and get hit by a car and die. The future isn't something that can be predicted. I'm certainly not going to go in there hoping to die, but I don't plan to stay out here when I have just as much chance of dying in New York as I do in there."

"I can't go back to London," one of the Lost Boys commented. "Where would I go?"

Dahlia blinked. "Well, I could always send you to New York. That would be a fun time! But in all seriousness, you guys aren't my problem. I frankly don't even know why I helped you."

"Brave one." Tiger Lily stepped forward. "You have tried to save us, but you have failed. We do not belong in any other world but Neverland. We were born there and we shall die there."

The tribe all bowed towards Dahlia and moved into the first portal. Dahlia could have tried to stop them. She almost wanted to, but their choice was their choice. In a few minutes, they were all gone. Most of the pirates willingly went to Victorian England, but a few seemed reluctant to leave Hook, who seemed frozen to his spot. The Lost Boys, as well, didn't move. Finally, there were only about twenty people in the space.

Dahlia took a deep breath, and turned to the Lost Boys. "You should go through the portal."

Willy shook his head, as did many of the Lost Boys. "No," Willy commented harshly. "If you do plan to go there, we will be waiting out here for you."

"That's not a good idea."

"Unless you want us to come with…I think we'd all be willing to—"

"Fine, fine." Dahlia raised up her hands in surrender. "You win. Just promise me no one will follow me in. And if I'm not out in an hour, then you will go to London."

"And how are we supposed to tell time here?"

"Just count out loud." Dahlia turned to enter the portal, but a hand grabbed her.

John took ahold of her shoulders tightly. "Dahlia, listen to me. I don't want you to go. You know that. But I don't see any choice in the matter. You are just like Wendy. When you decide on something, you stick with it. But first, let me say something."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Callenback…I mean, John, this probably isn't the time."

"You're my niece, whether I like it or not. I can't change that. Neither can you. Now, listen to me. You're the last family I have."

"What about Michael?"

John shook his head. "Dead. He died of pneumonia when he was twelve. Wendy's dead. My parents are dead. Patrick is dead. I have no one, say for you. I'm going to wait right here for you, and I'm not leaving. Even if I have to wait an eternity, I'm not letting you go. So come back…alright?"

Dahlia shook her head. His speech was almost sweet, in a sickly cute way. If they weren't in this situation, she might have smiled. "Uncle John, I can't promise that."

Her uncle only shook his head. "Well, I'm waiting anyway." He let go of her and stepped back.

Dahlia surveyed the crowd before her. Her mother, her uncle, her friends, she might say. She skipped over the pirates, especially Hook. But these people were in a reality she never knew, but a reality she was born as part of. She nodded to them and then turned into the black portal to face her fate.


	32. The End

**Author's note: So here it is: the finale of Darling Deduction. Thank you everyone for the amazing support through the months I've been writing this. I'm finishing it today because of all you guys. So thank you. I hope you are satisfied with my ending and that you go out in the world and find what makes you truly happy: not what others say should make you happy. As always, let me know what you think and I'll see you all in the wonderful world of literature!**

32.

"To live will be an awfully big adventure." – J. M. Barrie

The moment Dahlia entered the portal, there was nothing. She could not feel ground under her feet and no light protruded from anywhere. It wasn't that she was just surrounded by darkness, it was like there was absolutely nothing around her. Her ears rang from the silence. And yet, she still walked forward, hoping to see something.

"Pan!" She called out in the empty space, though her voice didn't sound as if it even made it out of her throat, as if there was no air around her. She could still breathe, though, and that was a good sign.

"Pan, where are you?"

From somewhere, she could just make out a soft whisper. She hurried forward as her feet began getting incredibly hot.

It was not until she broke into a run that she saw a figure lying in the distance. There wasn't exactly a light on him; it was more like he was the light. She raced forward and dropped to her knees beside the unconscious Pan.

"Pan! Pan! Are you okay?" She shook his shoulders, but he made no response. "Great, now what?"

Clip! Clip!

Dahlia turned at the echoed sound which sounded alien such a place.

Two figures approach her, one white as milk and the other black as night. They weren't exactly human, but they had a general shape of a human. But their faces didn't have features.

"Who are you?" She demanded, still kneeling beside Pan.

The first voice seemed to come from the black shadow. "Come now, Lia, do you not recognize me?"

It was Pan's voice, and yet a bit darker. It was hard to explain how it sounded, but it sent a shiver down her back.

Dahlia jumped to her feet. "Pan's shadow. What have you done to him?"

"Nothing," The black shadow continued, "He has done it to himself. He cut his heart in two and destroyed my complete power over him. I am not just a spirit lost in an abyss of emptiness. He has defeated the evil inside him, but at such a cost."

"How can I save him?" Dahlia wasn't sure if the shadow could answer her and, even if he could, if he would be telling the truth. So far, the shadow's reliability had been hit or miss.

The black shadow waved his hand, as if not willing to tell her.

She glanced at the other shadow, which lighted up the space with white light. "Who are you?"

The white shadow took a step closer, reaching its hand out as if to touch Dahlia, who immediately took a step back, almost tripping over Pan in the process.

When the white shadow spoke, its voice was Pan's. "Do you not recognize that which you held in the palm of your hand."

Dahlia's head leaned towards one side. What was he talking about? It was amazing that these two shadows possessed Pan's voice, but each just a bit different. The dark shadow was colder, deeper, while the light shadow was softer, kinder. What were these manifestations? Where they even real?

She wracked her brain, finally settling on one thought. "You said Pan cut his heart in half. Does that mean that his heart can be put back together? I could take it to the ER, but that might take too long. But surely there is some magic that could put it back together. Like a spell."

The dark shadow let out a cold laugh, moving in a circle around her and Pan. "You have the strangest theories, Lia."

As if finishing his opposite's sentence as he copied his walk, the light shadow voiced, "But it does seem to work out for you."

"I say it is luck," the dark shadow offered.

"I say it is love," the light shadow disagreed. "I say we help her."

"No, she's been nothing but trouble."

"But I am tired of having you in control of his heart. I want to play as well!"

"Stop!" Dahlia shouted, her head spinning. Both shadows stopped in their endless walk around her. "Would you please tell me who you two really are and what the hell you're talking about!"

The light shadow bowed. "We are Pan's heart."

"Don't tell her that!" The dark shadow interrupted. "I like seeing her confused."

"The time to be confused is over, brother," the light shadow contemplated. "Lia, you see darkness has a way of easily taking over one's heart. It is so easy to succumb to obsession with so many things. Power. Lust. Envy. These are usually caused by fear. Fear of being poor. Fear of being unloved. For Peter, it was his fear of death. It caused him to let an evil into his heart that overcame the goodness in him. You know this as the shadow you met. When Peter cut his heart with the knife, the bond between him and the evil was torn. Now, we are all that's left. I am his goodness, and this darkness beside me is his fear."

Dahlia blinked, comprehending the depth of the shadow's speech. "That's…that's surprising a good understanding of the world. Personally, I think most people have more evil than goodness in them, but we can debate that later. I've never been fond of philosophy. But what does this have to do with saving Pan?"

"Tell me, Lia," the light shadow continued, "Why do you call him Pan? Why not Peter?"

Dahlia didn't answer for moment. She didn't really think about why she did things. She just did them. Perhaps it was her impulsive personality which settled into habits and didn't like to accept change. Or perhaps it was her obsession with distancing herself from everyone. In many of the classical novels she read, referring to a person by their first name was a sign of closeness. And Dahlia had never been fond of closeness to anyone.

"That doesn't answer my question," Dahlia pointed out, changing the topic.

The white shadow bowed his head again. "My apologies. It is just something Peter has been wondering."

"How would you know?"

"I'm half of his heart."

Dahlia snapped to attention, a lightbulb figuratively appearing above her head. "Did you just say you were half of Pan's heart? And earlier you said that you and that—" she pointed at the dark shadow, "—are Pan's heart. Does that mean if you become one, I can save Pan?"

It was the dark shadow who spoke. "Nonsense. I'm not going to be stuck back in that body. I don't want to go back to the real world and get old and die. That doesn't sound like any fun."

Dahlia rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. "You do realize where we are, don't you? This is death! You can't escape death. I thought Pan proved that with Neverland. You can slow death, but it can't be stopped. If you stay here, all three of you will die. But if you save Pan, you will live at least…well, at least sixty or seventy years. Which would you prefer: dying young without becoming all you could be or dying old with memories of a life of regrets and success? That's your choice. What do you pick?"

The two shadows stood wavering for a moment, silence pervading the space.

"No!"

Dahlia jumped at the menacing voice from behind her and was shocked to see long claws inching out of the darkness. She almost took a step back. The hands were long and slender, as if death itself. The true frightening part was that the hands were the size of a human person.

"You shall not have him," the voice boomed, coming from all around them. Was this death itself? "We made a pact! I will take his soul. He shall be damned!" Or he was the devil. Either one.

Dahlia had never been a religious person, but after today she certainly wasn't planning to become a Satanist either. Jeez!

She turned back on the shadows. "Make your decision quickly. We're out of time. Please, save him!" If she thought falling on her knees and begging them would save Pan, she might have even done it.

The white shadow bowed and turned to the dark shadow. "It is time, brother."

He waved to Dahlia to move out of the way, as she still stood in front of Pan's unconscious body. She did and watched as the shadows stepped forward and…well, the only word she could think to describe it was that they merged together. They became one, a shadow of greyish color. Dahlia wondered if that was what everyone's heart looked like: a mass of greyish goop of good and evil.

The now single shadow glanced at her and nodded its head. "We'll give it seventy years, shall we?"

She didn't have a chance to ask what they were talking about as they stepped forward and sunk, quite literally, into Pan's body. Light exploded out of his body as the clawing hands paused for a moment.

"Stop it! You cannot save him!" The echoed voice shouted louder. "He is mine!"

The light faded into Pan and his eyes flew open. Immediately, he started coughing. Dahlia sunk down by his side and grabbed his arm with one hand and patted his back with the other.

"Pan, Pan, are you okay?"

Pan finally stopped coughing and glanced up at her. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "Lia?" His hand rose and touched her cheek softly. "Are you real? Or just part of this nightmare?"

Dahlia didn't comment. His hand was cold. She took his hand in hers. "Your hands are freezing. Look, we have to get out of here."

"Get out? But I'm dead." Pan didn't seem fully alert. Not that Dahlia could blame him. He had been practically dead a moment ago.

"Nonsense! You're not dead yet, but you will be if you don't get off your ass." She gestured behind him towards the hands.

Pan glanced back and jumped immediately. With Dahlia help, he scrambled to his feet.

"What the hell is that thing?" he demanded.

"Who's swearing now?"

He glanced at her as a flicker of a smile crossed his face. "Patrick taught me all the bad language I know."

"Thus why you say cool." Dahlia shook her head. This was not the time for this conversation. "We need to get out of here."

Pan glanced around. "Where is here?"

"Death, I guess. Not sure. Anyway, come on." She grabbed his hand and started pulling him back from the inching hands.

Pan followed and soon they broke into a run. As they ran, Pan shouted, "You saved me, didn't you?"

Dahlia didn't bother to look back as they ran. "Not really. I just convinced your heart to become one piece again…I'll explain later."

"I knew you'd do me good from the moment I saved you in the forest."

"You didn't really save me, you know. I was handling the Indians perfectly well."

Pan laughed. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. In truth, though, admit it. You care about me."

Dahlia rolled her eyes, glancing around. The portal must be around here somewhere. "Sure, sure, whatever you say."

Pan stopped, yanking Dahlia to a stop too. She tried to keep running, but he stood his ground as his grip on her hand tightened.

She turned, looking behind him at the darkness. The hands weren't visible, but she was sure they were still there. "Look, we don't have time. Can we please go?"

"Do you love me?"

"Are you kidding me? There are six-foot-hands pursuing us and you think this is a good time for romance? Would you hurry if I told you that I do?"

Pan snorted. "Don't you get it? Before you came, I was ready to die. But then you showed up. You gave me a reason to keep trying to live. So, if you don't care about me, what does it matter to me if I'm dragged to hell or not?"

"You have got to be kidding me." She tugged on his hand. "You can't give up now, just because of my opinion. I didn't go through all this just so you could give up. Come on!"

Instead of following her, he pulled on her hand and yanked her closer. His empty hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her against his chest. She leaned back, struggling to get his hands off her. The sensation of being in his arms wasn't exactly unpleasant, but this wasn't the time.

"Pan, please, let me go! We have to get out of here. Please, we'll both die! You'll die! The Lost Boys…what will they do without you." She paused as he stood stoically, his face inches away from hers. "Pan, don't do this! I'm not ready to die yet. And you're not either. Please, Peter, I don't want you to die!"

Pan let out a soft laugh. "That's the first time you've said my name. I guess I'll have to settle for that right now."

He kissed her.

And light exploded around them. Dahlia's transporter began to vibrate. Wait, that usually happened when she was going back to the real world. What was happening! She grabbed Pan's sleeves before she knew what she was doing.

She hit a hard surface, getting the breath knocked out of her.

Immediately, she heard a chaos of voices shouting Pan and her name. Hands grabbed her to pick her up and she lost contract of Pan's sleeves.

She glanced around, recognizing the faces of John and the Lost Boys. It took her only a moment to look past them before she realized where she was standing. She was standing in the LEA basement where she'd transported back to dozens of times.

When she was steady, the Lost Boys let her go and surrounded Pan, cheering and jumping at his return. The room was loud.

"Yo, see you decided to show up."

Dahlia turned at the all-too-familiar voice to see Jay standing beside her with his arms crossing, looking more stressed than usual.

"What's going on here?" She asked. What were the Lost Boys and John Darling doing standing in LEA headquarters?

"I could ask you the same thing. They just showed up here an hour ago and demanded if you'd saved Pan. Look, what's going on. You've been missing for weeks, Yriaf hasn't told me anything say that you're fine, he shows up yesterday with this strange dude in handcuffs, and then you show up here with a gaggle of boys. From a fictional world, might I add. I mean, what am I supposed to do with them!"

Dahlia glanced around at all the boys in front of her. She had a flicker of an idea that she could send them back, but she dismissed the idea immediately. They must have gone through the New York portal. They had made their choice. The trouble was that Jay had a point: what would they do with them now.

"Hey, Dahlia!" John rushed over. "This is your world! It's so incredibly. You don't suppose we can see more of it?"

Dahlia rolled her eyes. Thirteen boys straight out of Neverland turned their eyes on her. She sighed.

The world, she decided, was a confusing place with so much uncertainty. It was a place where dimensions could collide and the lines between fiction and reality blurred. Where people could change and grow and die. Before her trip to Neverland, she'd decided all she wanted was freedom. But now she realized something: maybe freedom wasn't defined as the right to do whatever one wanted, maybe it was defined as the right to do what should be done.

Dahlia's eyes focused on Pan, the only silent figure in the room. He was watching her, a twinkle in his eyes. She smiled at him. This was only the beginning. She was only nineteen, and who could think what would happen in the next nineteen years of her life.

"Jay," she started, "How about we go find Yriaf and tell him we've got thirteen new members of LEA to train in."

She didn't take her eyes off the immortal boy who had been part of her since she was born. From her father's choices to her love of literature, everything in her life had been leading up to this.

To hell with the mundane.


End file.
